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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884896">Christmas Surprise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasha_T/pseuds/Tasha_T'>Tasha_T</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Femslash, Lesbian, Lesbian Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:42:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasha_T/pseuds/Tasha_T</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lauren noticed that her cousin, Lindsey, has a big crush on the hot HR person, Rosa, but when she decided to 'help out', things don't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lunchtime meetings – my all-time least favorite thing to do at work, but something our company seemed to love.  They were especially annoying on a Friday.  I just wanted to eat my celery sticks (blah . . . I mean, yay . . . I have a real love-hate relationship with this current diet of mine) and dream about the weekend.</p><p>“This sucks,” I whispered to my cousin, Lindsey, but she was too distracted.  She had her chin resting in her hands and was staring all googly-eyed at the people at the front of the room.</p><p>I followed her line of sight to the object of her affection . . . and then smiled.</p><p>I leaned in close to her and said, “Why don’t you just ask her out?”</p><p>She looked at me like I’d grown a second head.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” she shot back, a little too loudly. </p><p>A few of the people in the room turned their eyes our way and our GM, who’d been droning away at the front of the room, paused a second and glanced over.</p><p>Not good.  I just grinned and mouthed a, “Sorry.”</p><p>Then I elbowed Lindsey and gave her a sour look. </p><p>She shot an equally annoyed look right back at me. </p><p>Things moved on.  People were used to me and Lindsey.</p><p>After a couple of seconds, when the GM had started rambling again, I leaned in and said, “It’s kind of obvious . . . and I hear she’s available.”</p><p>Lindsey gave me a nasty little shot in the ribs with her elbow and angrily whispered back, “You know I don’t date women.”</p><p>That just brought a grin out on my face.  “I know you haven’t dated women,” I replied, and then raised my brows as if to say, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”  Yes, we’d had this conversation a few times.</p><p>She crossed her arms, adopted a scowl, and turned slightly away from me.  Lindsey was always the mature one.</p><p>That didn’t last long, though, because almost immediately the GM wrapped up and handed the floor over to Rosa Perez – our sexy little assistant HR manager and the object of Lindsey’s desire.</p><p>I watched Rosa as she began to speak.  It was pretty obvious what Lindsey saw in her.  Rosa was very attractive – petite, with a dark complexion, dark hair and eyes, and a slim, toned body that – from what I heard – she worked very hard to keep that way.  Beyond just her looks, though, she had a warm, lively and outgoing personality that seemed to make everyone want to have her as a pal.</p><p>I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone in the office say anything bad about her – except maybe that bitch Alison who liked to think she was the hottest thing around and who I’m sure resented the much sexier Rosa.</p><p>It was kind of an open secret in our office that Rosa was gay.  Of course this didn’t stop all the guys – with guys being like they are – from lusting after her.  You almost couldn’t walk through the warehouse without hearing some crude comment about Rosa.  Of course I heard my fair share of comments down there, too, about my delightful bottom and my rather lovely boobs (my PG interpretation of what was said).  I guess my feigned outrage didn’t really fool anybody.</p><p>(I’d said to more than one guy, “Maybe I should go talk to Rosa about that comment.”  I’d pause, bite my lip and in a breathless, dreamy voice add, “I’m sure she’d be understanding.”  After a few seconds of watching them squirm – half scared about me going to HR and half thrilled by the way I was talking about Rosa – I’d give them a big grin and head on my way.  A little fun for everyone.)</p><p>Anyway, I’d heard from a reliable source – that being Connie, the administrative assistant in HR – that Rosa and her last ‘partner’ were done.  So now was the time for Lindsey to swoop in.  And if she didn’t want to jump to it, I had no problem giving her a little push.  That’s what family is for.</p><p>Rosa was talking about an upcoming ‘team-building’ event.  Typically, I’d avoid anything with that tag-line like I did the dorky guy in line at the coffee shop who’s always trying to start up a conversation with me.  Really . . . just not interested.</p><p>But I was thinking this might be an opportunity to help Lindsey out.</p><p>It seemed we were going to sponsor a Christmas event at a local day care center and an elementary school – yes, our company really did care about our community (honest!).  Rosa was looking for volunteers.  Big Tony Manetti, from down on the loading dock, had actually volunteered to be Santa.  That was a shocker – until I heard that Rosa was going to be Mrs. Clause.  Then it all made sense.  Well, except for the fact that Rosa wasn’t into men, but as I’ve said . . . guys!</p><p>Now Rosa was asking if she could get a couple of people to volunteer as elves.  She looked longingly around the room, but most people where doing that thing where they were suddenly checking out something mysterious on the floor or under their finger nails.</p><p>I felt inspired, so I put my hand up and said, “Lindsey and I will do that.”</p><p>Lindsey gave me a shocked look while Rosa was giving me a big, beautiful smile – certainly much bigger than Big Tony got – and mouthing the words, “Thanks, Lauren.”  I smile right back at her.  It seemed to last for a long second, and then she, I thought reluctantly, turned away to address some other details about the event.</p><p>As soon as Rosa’s attention was elsewhere Lindsey gave me another vicious shot in the ribs.  Let me tell you, it was painful.  I was sure my ribs were going to need to be bandaged up after this.</p><p>When I turned to Lindsey she was glaring at me.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she whispered angrily.</p><p>I gave a little, “Shh,” to tell her to keep it down this time, and then gave her my most angelic smile.  “Why I’m just being a good team player,” I informed her and then batted my lashes.</p><p>“Bullshit,” she muttered immediately and I saw her winding up for another assault on my ribs.  I leaned as far away from her as I could, which of course almost put me in the lap of Shawn from accounting.  He couldn’t seem to decide if he should be annoyed with me or get a hard-on.  I think maybe he was trying both out.</p><p>I gave him a tight little, ‘as if’ smile and then shifted back into my seat.</p><p>Lindsey was still glaring my way, so I leaned over to her and whispered, “I thought maybe it would be a good idea to help out . . . and, you know, get some big brownie points.”</p><p>She was looking at me, a little uncertain, so I added, just to clarify, “You know . . . with Rosa.  Plus, since she’s being Mrs. Clause, I’m thinking we’ll be spending a lot of time working together . . . maybe have a chance to chat a bit . . . get to know each other.”</p><p>Lindsey wasn’t exactly grinning like I’d expected – I guess she was still struggling to understand my brilliance – but she didn’t look like she was going to do any more grievous bodily harm to my ribs.  That was a relief.</p><p>After a couple more minutes, Rosa wrapped the meeting up, and thanked all those who had volunteered.  That got me another big smile – Lindsey seemed a bit annoyed by it – and Rosa asked if the three of us (Tony, Lindsey and me) could stick around for a minute.</p><p>We stood in a little huddle while Rosa thanked us all again.  I’ve got to say, Big Tony made the three of us all look like elves or dwarves of something.  He could barely keep from drooling over Rosa, but I was pleased to see he made the effort to try peeking down my top too.  To men, the word ‘subtle’ is meaningless.</p><p>Rosa told Tony they had a Santa’s suit and that he should drop by and see their administrative assistant (Connie) to get it and see how it fit.  I really hoped it was sized ‘extra husky’, for Tony’s sake.</p><p>Then she turned to me and Lindsey.  Lindsey was acting all shy and stupid – which annoyed me.  If I could have done it without being seen, I would have given her one of those rib shots.  I was doing this for her, after all.</p><p>Anyway, Rosa told us – mainly me, because, you know . . . Lindsey – that they also had elf hats (with pointy little ears – she seemed quite amused by that fact) and shoes if we wanted.  “If you have a Christmas-y dress or something like that . . . I’m sure you can get creative.  That would be great.” </p><p>Her eyes never left mine and her smile never left her face. </p><p>Up close and personal like this, I had to admit, she really was an even bigger hottie.  And Lindsey was missing out because she was acting all weird.  She was seriously pissing me off.</p><p>I guess Rosa had told us everything she needed to, because she wrapped it up saying, “Thanks, Lauren (one Mississippi, two Mississippi) . . . Lindsey, Tony.  I really appreciate you helping make this a big success.  If you do have any questions, please, give me a call.” </p><p>I think she gave me another little glance when she said the, ‘please give me a call’.  Maybe I was imagining, though.</p><p>Rosa checked her watch, mumbled that she had to run, and then hustled out of the room.  Tony followed, with his eyes firmly glued to Rosa’s retreating bottom.</p><p>I stood there, feeling quite pleased with myself.  It was short lived, because suddenly I took another shot to the ribs that almost doubled me over.</p><p>I turned to Lindsey.  “What was that for?” I demanded.</p><p>She just scowled.  “You know,” she informed me (she was sadly mistaken), and then turned and stomped out of the room.</p><p>Insanity did run in our family, and I was starting to think Lindsey might be the carrier of those particular genes for our generation.  I decided I was definitely done with the favors for my cousin. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sat sipping my cooler, enjoying the tart citrus flavor and doing my best to think only happy thoughts.  Of course every time I glanced across the table at my cousin – who was still sulking – I wanted to punch someone (try to guess who was at the top of my list).</p><p>We were at Tino’s, a dive-y little bar that had become the unofficial hang out for Friday-after-work drinks solely because it was the closest provider-of-alcohol to our offices.  There were probably twenty people from work there, spread around the place, but I’d pulled Lindsey aside because I thought we needed to talk . . . again.  And it was going wonderfully!</p><p>Lindsey was well into her second beer, and it was disappearing quickly.  I could see the direction this evening was heading – my mind filled with images of a train careening wildly down the tracks, and then trying to take the corner way too fast . . . .  Too subtle with my imagery?  Yeah, I’m talking a total train wreck. </p><p>I was certain my future would include me hovering over Lindsey in a bathroom stall trying to hold her hair back while she chatted on the big porcelain telephone, and then trying to convince some taxi driver to take us home (no, honestly, she never throws up), where I’d have to half carry her in, dump her into bed, and then probably spend the night on her couch so I could satisfy myself she wasn’t going to choke on . . . well, you get the picture.</p><p>That whole scenario didn’t have a ton of appeal to me, surprisingly.  I decided it was time for an intervention.</p><p>“What the fuck is your problem?” I demanded.  I know ‘ladies’ don’t use that kind of language (according to my mother), but I’d given up on pretending many years ago.</p><p>Lindsey gave me a sullen look and then tipped back her bottle and finished about half of what remained. </p><p>“So what?  Sexy little Rosa gave me a smile and now you’re all pissed off?  Maybe she noticed me because I was actually willing to do something to get her attention.  I didn’t just sit in the back mooning over her and hoping somehow, magically, she’d see me and come running over and fall into my arms.”</p><p>My tough love was working wonderfully.  Now Lindsey was staring at the cheap coaster that had been under her beer, deeply contemplating the meaning of whatever beer company slogan was written on it.  She was so fucking frustrating sometimes.  Wait, I should give credit where credit is due . . . she was frustrating pretty much all the time!</p><p>“Anyway,” I continued, “I thought you didn’t care about Rosa.  You know, how you ‘don’t date women’.  So what do you care if she’s smiling at me . . . and clearly wants me.”  I tied to sound as gleeful as possible when I said that last bit.  Maybe that was kind of spiteful, but I was feeling like Lindsey had earned it.</p><p>That got her attention, though.  She fixed her eyes on me . . . and now she was back to looking like she was considering more ‘grievous bodily harm’.</p><p>I smiled at her, put my hand on hers (she tried to pull it away, but I’m a lot stronger than I look), and said, “Look, sweetie, if you’re attracted to Rosa, there’s nothing wrong with that.  In case you haven’t figured it out, I don’t care.  In fact, I’d be thrilled if you found someone . . . and Rosa seems really lovely.”</p><p>I was happy that she’d quit fighting me.  She was staring at the table, but at least she’d lost the sullen look and was just going with ‘confused and uncertain’.</p><p>I gave her a moment.  I figured at some point Lindsey would finally admit – to herself and maybe even me – that it was just, maybe, possible that she had a little bit of a thing for women. </p><p> </p><p>I’d reached that conclusion almost ten months ago.</p><p>Lindsey and I were doing the Mexican ‘escape the fucking never-ending winter’ trip at a low end resort (which fit our budget).  It had been my idea after Lindsey’s latest relationship disaster.  If her relationships were horror movies (and some of them really felt like they were), then this sequel would be ‘Relationship from Hell XXXVIII’ – at least.  I would have picked a higher number if I knew more Roman numerals.</p><p>Anyway it was day one at the resort and we were at the beach bar enjoying a drink way too early in the day while we scoped the place out.  Lindsey actually seemed to be in not too bad of a mood. </p><p>After I paid for the drinks, I turned to Lindsey and noticed she seemed to be focused on something on the beach.  When I looked, I could see she was following this blonde woman in a butt-floss bikini with unnaturally oversized tits that made her look like she might fall over on her face if the wind shifted suddenly.  Okay, who am I kidding . . . with those tits there’s no way her face would ever touch the sand.</p><p>Anyway, I assumed Lindsey was just gawking at the sight of this, so I said, “I guess she won’t have to worry about drowning.  It looks like she’s got the built in floatation devises.”</p><p>I expected Lindsey to just laugh . . . or worse case, give me one of those, ‘God, Lauren, do you have to be so rude all the time’ looks.  Instead she seemed totally flustered (it dawned on me much later that this wasn’t the first time she’d reacted that way in similar circumstances). </p><p>I wasn’t sure what to make of it.  I thought maybe she was imagining herself in a bathing suit like that (I chose to believe she wouldn’t be imagining a boob job like that) and that she was uncomfortable about admitting it.</p><p>I mean, Lindsey had the body to pull off that kind of skimpy little bikini, but she really didn’t have the attitude or the confidence for it.  I could certainly pull it off . . . I just never felt the need to go that skanky.</p><p>Anyway, I just shrugged it off and pretty much forgot about it immediately. </p><p>That afternoon, though, we were by the pool and I had gone on a drinks run (do you sense a theme?).  On my way back, I saw Lindsey – who was pretending to read a magazine – peering surreptitiously (that’s my ‘big word for the day’) at this group in the pool. </p><p>There were three of them.  The guy was okay and the dark haired woman was okay, but the red headed woman was freaking gorgeous (I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality that I can say that).</p><p>I flashed back to that whole scene earlier . . . and I paused.  I half hid behind a big plant and watched her (anyone watching me probably thought I was a loon . . . or maybe a secret agent). </p><p>Lindsey was trying to be subtle, but I could see she was clearly checking out this group.  I couldn’t honestly say which one – if there was one in particular – she was focused on, but I had my suspicion (hint – it wasn’t the one you’d expect a regular, heterosexual woman to be checking out).</p><p>When the guy hopped out of the pool to go grab his sunglasses, I noticed Lindsey’s eyes didn’t follow him.  So then there were two.  Well, at that point it didn’t really matter, but I still had a compulsive need to know I was right.  Sure enough, the dark haired woman dove under the water and swam off, but Lindsey’s eyes never strayed from the redhead. </p><p>Yes!  I was right!  But of course, more importantly, I thought I’d learned something significant about my cousin. </p><p>I felt bad for her.  Imagine her hiding this secret from the world all these years . . . getting in all those relationships with all those guys, just to keep it from becoming obvious . . . and having sex with all those guys, too (yes, I did demand details, as much as Lindsey hated giving them.  It was only fair, though . . . I always gave her all the dirt on my latest adventures between the sheets.  Okay, maybe she didn’t ask for it, but I’m naturally a sharing kind of person).</p><p>When I thought about it, it seemed a bit odd.  I started to wonder if she, maybe, swung both ways.  We were very close, though, so I was pretty sure she’d never done any swinging with women.  At some point she would have told me.  It was quite amazing what Lindsey shared after a few too many drinks.  And she’d gotten to the ‘too many drinks’ point on a regular basis since we were teenagers.</p><p>For the rest of the day I continued watching, and the more I did, the more I was convinced I was right.  There was the tall blonde who was always playing beach volleyball, the hot Mexican bartender at the club just off the resort, the young Asian woman who went from terribly cute to smoking hot when she got all dressed up for the evening, and of course the redhead.  It didn’t seem Lindsey had a type . . . other than female.</p><p>I decided on an experiment . . . just to assure myself that I was right . . . even if I had no doubts. </p><p>When I’d see a hot guy – and I set my standards reasonably high – I’d say something like, “Mmm, look at that one.  I wonder if he’s available?”</p><p>That would certainly get Lindsey’s attention, and she would look them over, but they never seemed to hold her attention particularly long (I was sure that couldn’t have anything to do with her relationship that had just ended . . . or the fact that he’d dumped her).</p><p>For part 2 of my experiment, when I’d see a hot looking woman, I’d say something like, “I really love that bikini,” or “She looks so cute in that dress.  I really should get one that color.”  Lindsey would certainly look (okay, of course she looked), but I was convinced her eyes would linger much longer with the women (quick note: I had no scientific basis for this . . . just my perception, but its not like I’m biased). </p><p>Was Lindsey maybe just admiring the ‘bikini’ or the ‘dress’?  I suppose that’s possible, but I chose to ignore it because . . . well, because it messed with my theory.  I was simply convinced she had a thing for women – whether she knew it and admitted it or not.</p><p>Okay, maybe my experiment wouldn’t hold up to real scientific scrutiny, but regardless, I knew I was right. </p><p>I thought maybe I should talk to her about it, but short of saying, “Hey, lots of hot woman around here.  See any you’d like to jump?”, I wasn’t exactly sure how to get that conversation started.</p><p>Like I said, Lindsey and I were close . . . and I was sure we could talk about anything.  So clearly the best approach was to just be open and honest with her. </p><p>Ha, good one . . . have you met my sullen, defensive and totally in denial cousin?  So that’s definitely not the way I went.  I decided on a much more subtle approach . . . I’d get her really drunk.  Drunk always opens up the channels of communication.</p><p>I enthusiastically put my plan into effect that very night.  I was maybe a bit too enthusiastic.  I did learn one thing, though.  Lindsey could easily drink me under the table if I tried to keep pace with her.  I turned into a babbling idiot in no time, blacked out (God, I wonder what I might have said during those ‘lost’ hours) and woke up feeling like the local band from the club might have been using my head for a steel drum all night long. </p><p>Lindsey gave up waiting for me for breakfast and headed off on her own.  By the time I made it out of the room it was early afternoon.  I had my sunglasses and my big straw hat on and a couple of extra strength Tylenol floating around in my system.  I wasn’t moving quickly (and probably not even in a straight line) and I was clutching a big bottle of water like my life depended on it.  Luckily for me Lindsey had saved a lounger by the pool.  I dropped down into it, laid back, and decided I needed, say, twelve more hours of sleep.</p><p>Lindsey was giving me that smug little smile that you reserve for utter losers who try and fail at life, or family members who make total idiots of themselves.  I was hoping she considered me the latter.</p><p>Anyway, that sidetracked my ‘plan’ – if you could truly call it that.</p><p>For the rest of the vacation I tried to get us to ‘that’ conversation, but I utterly failed.  I did know Lindsey well enough to know that just asking her would not be a good approach, but I couldn’t seem to come up with any way to have that discussion. </p><p>By our last night at the resort I’d given up on it and just decided to have some fun and enjoy myself.  I convinced Lindsey to get dressed up and head out for the night.  When we’d gone to the club other nights, we’d just slummed it like many of the tourists did . . . but not that night. </p><p>It wasn’t lost on me just how gorgeous Lindsey was when she tried. </p><p>I followed her lead that night . . . which I guess is what I’d been doing most of the vacation.  Plenty of guys asked her to dance (plenty asked me too, by the way – I’m not chopped liver, just so you know).  She danced with some, and accepted drinks from a couple (I thought she was still eying the hot Mexican bartender, though) but I honestly didn’t feel she was that into it. </p><p>At one point she snubbed a couple of guys in a row and was starting to look a little mopey, so I grabbed her hand and dragged her up to dance.  Both of us love dancing, so I thought that might improve her mood.  I was right.  In no time she was grinning and enjoying herself.</p><p>After a couple of songs some guy came up and did his best to ruin our fun by asking Lindsey to dance.  I could see she wasn’t interested, so just for fun I slipped my arm around her waist, pulled her close, and glared at the guy.  I yelled (you had to yell to be heard over the music), “Hey asshole, are you trying to pick up my girlfriend?”  No doubt it was all those thoughts I was having about Lindsey that inspired me.</p><p>We totally sold it when Lindsey snuggled closer and dropped her head on my shoulder.  Let me tell you, the look on the guy’s face was priceless. </p><p>He stammered some apology that was lost in the music and then backed away, staring at us as he went.  I kept my glare up until he melted into the crowd and then turned to Lindsey and we both burst out laughing.</p><p>“Come on, girlfriend, let’s dance,” I shouted, and that’s what the two of us did for the rest of the night.</p><p>When we made the short walk back to the resort some time after midnight we were both still giggling about it.  We had to support each other as we walked – a sure sign a good time was had by all.  We’d been into the tequila shots, because Lindsey ‘reasoned’ that having them meant we could get back up on the dance floor quicker.  They might have gone to our heads a little bit.</p><p>It was a beautiful night and there was a big, bright moon hanging out over the ocean. </p><p>“It’s our last night” Lindsey moaned, and then getting a bit of inspiration, shouted,  “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”</p><p>We took our shoes off and started across the sand, letting the waves wash up over our feet.</p><p>Finally we crashed on a couple of the beach chairs.  We just lay there, staring out over the water for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts, before Lindsey said, “Thank you.”</p><p>I looked over and saw she was staring at me.  “For what?” I asked.</p><p>“For this,” she said, waving her hands around, I guess indicating the whole resort, or probably the whole vacation.</p><p>“I was so depressed after . . . Kyle . . . .”  Her voice trailed off.</p><p>“Fuck Kyle,” I shouted.  The alcohol was maybe making me feel a bit exuberant.  “I don’t think Kyle was right for you anyways,” I told her quite confidently.</p><p>“Really?” she said.  “I thought you liked Kyle?”</p><p>“Kyle’s okay,” I started, and then quickly shifted gears like only the totally inebriated can.  “Kyle’s an asshole for dumping you.  He’s a fucking moron.  He’s never had someone that hot.  I think you were just too much for him.  Fucking loser.  He didn’t deserve you.”</p><p>Lindsey was grinning.  Who doesn’t love being defended like that?  That was me . . . always there for my cousin.</p><p>Just like in Vegas, though, you’ve got to know to walk away when you’re ahead.  Maybe there’s a reason I always leave Vegas wiped out.</p><p>“Yes, fucking Kyle wasn’t right for you,” I muttered.  I really should have stopped there, but I was on a roll.  And given what had been bouncing around in my mind all week, was it any wonder I said something like, “You know who I think would be good for you.  Do you remember that Susan O’Keefe . . . .”</p><p>Let’s just say the conversation went sharply downhill from there.  I was thrilled by the Arctic weather that greeted us when we returned home, because it was downright tropical compared to the frosty plane ride back that I’d shared with Lindsey.</p><p> </p><p>I continued to watch Lindsey.  She was peeling the label off her now empty beer bottle, seemingly lost in thought.</p><p>I was having a few thoughts of my own.  I was starting to think Lindsey needed a ‘starter girlfriend’.  I know I said how lovely Rosa was, and I meant it, but when you’re just learning to drive, you didn’t start out with a Ferrari.  Rosa was definitely a Ferrari.  I was starting to think she was more than Lindsey was ready to handle.  Really, Lindsey needed more of a Corolla.</p><p>I mean, it wasn’t unreasonable.  Rosa seemed to have it all – beauty, intelligence, confidence . . . she was funny, poised, cultured . . . beautiful.  Did I already say that?</p><p>Rosa was sounding so good, I was thinking the next time she smiled at me, maybe I should encourage her.  Just kidding . . . I think.</p><p>But I was seriously starting to believe – as much as Lindsey might think otherwise – that Rosa wasn’t the right person for her . . . at least not right now.</p><p>I noticed Lindsey glancing around.  I figured she was losing patience with our waitress, Mindy (or so her name tag said – is Mindy even a real name?).  Mindy had been two table over chatting up a couple of the guys from the warehouse for the last five minutes.  She was doing her best to show them her winning personality (yeah, I mean her cleavage), but honestly, it wasn’t that impressive . . . and neither was she.  I wished Lindsey had half her confidence, though.</p><p>Lindsey finally got up and stomped over to the bar, shooting dirty looks at Mindy the whole way.  Her little show was wasted, though, because the woman was oblivious. </p><p>I turned my mind back to the issue at hand.  If Rosa wasn’t the right one for Lindsey, then who might be a candidate.  I didn’t really have a long list of readily available lesbians . . . so I decided it was something I’d have to think on.</p><p>Meanwhile, I began to wonder if this whole Christmas elf idea of mine wasn’t a colossal mistake.  If I forced Lindsey to be right up close with Rosa, and she wasn’t ready to handle that, would it wreck her confidence and make her even less willing to accept what was becoming more and more obvious to me? </p><p>I knew I’d have to play this carefully.  If I had to kind of shield her from Rosa – for her own good – then I certainly would.  Of course that was assuming Lindsey understood she needed it.  It was just as likely she’d seriously resent me for it and become even more sullen.  Why was it again that I was trying to help her out?</p><p>I continued to mull things over until I discovered the bottom of my glass.  It was my turn to glare at Mindy, who was still trying to close the deal with the guys two tables over.  Seriously, honey, if after all this time they hadn't taken the bait, you’d better either give up (definitely the appropriate choice for a woman with any dignity or self-respect) or wait until they were much drunker (and desperate).</p><p>It suddenly occurred to me that Lindsey had been gone a while.  I got immediately pissed, because I assumed she’d ditched me.  That’d be just like her . . . say anything she didn’t like and she’d run away.</p><p>When I glanced over, though, she was still at the bar, chatting with the intern. </p><p>We had some kind of deal with the local college.  We gave 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup> year business students intern position for a semester to give them some ‘real world’ experience.  The positions were unpaid, of course – does that give you any clue why our management was so keen to help out?</p><p>I knew the current intern was doing a bunch of work for Lindsey.  Lindsey swore their whole inventory system was a mess ever since they rolled out the ‘system improvement’ six months ago.  She had the intern helping her dig through everything to try and fix it.</p><p>I found the whole topic a little yawn-inducing . . . but whenever Lindsey got going on it, it was hard to shut her up.  I almost had to pull the, ‘Hey, what’s that over there?’ and then run for it.  It was either that or risk slipping into a coma from sheer boredom.</p><p>I glanced at Mindy again – no change in her attention to anything other than her prey – so I stuck two fingers in my mouth and whistled.  I’m a woman of many talents (I can give you references if you doubt me) and being able to whistle is definitely one of them.  I’m not talking a soft little ‘hi there’ whistle . . . I’m talking loud.  I mean, 100 decibel, ear splitting, heard-over-everything-else-in-the-bar loud. </p><p>I’m sure every eye in the place turned my way.  That was no big deal for me.  I just grinned, turned my eyes to Lindsey – surprisingly, she didn’t have her head buried in her hands, pretending she didn’t know me – raised my empty glass to her, and smiled.</p><p>I guess she understood the international sign for ‘I’m dying over her and I need another drink’.  She smiled and gave me a little nod.</p><p>Hey, what can I say.  Apparently us Foley women aren’t terribly patient when we need another drink.  There’s nothing wrong with that . . . I’m pretty sure.</p><p>I noticed Mindy was glaring at me now.  That made me smile.  And I was sure her boss behind the bar was wondering why I was having to call in an order from across the room when he was paying someone to handle that for me.  Really good question, right Mindy?</p><p>Maybe I’d just freed her up for a much earlier hook-up with some ‘lucky’ guy.  I expected she’d thank me later.</p><p>After a couple of minutes Lindsey appeared with my drink.  I gave her a big smile and a, “Thanks,” before I soothed my parched mouth with a large sip.</p><p>Apparently Lindsey had noticed the less than happy look on Mindy’s face, because she said, “Enjoy it.  It might be your last drink tonight that hasn’t been spit in.”  She was grinning as she said it.</p><p>I assumed she was happy I’d gotten Mindy . . . rather than relishing the thought that all my drinks would be coming with a little extra ‘garnish’.</p><p>Anyway, Lindsey seemed to be in a bit better mood . . . so I was taking credit for that.  I think that whole, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ philosophy was strong in our family.</p><p>I glanced over and saw the intern still sitting at the bar.  I turned to Lindsey and said, “Talking to Snuffleupagus, were you?”  That was my pet name for the intern.</p><p>Of course that got me a sour look from Lindsey.  “Her name is Stephanopoulos,” she told me in a somewhat hostile tone.  “And if you can’t manage that, then you can just call her Tina.”</p><p>Okay, maybe Lindsey had heard my little joke before.  I didn’t see what she was so upset about, though.  When I was little, Snuffleupagus happened to be my favorite character on Sesame Street . . . so how could you think it was a put-down?  My mom talked for years about how excited toddler-me would get whenever Snuffleupagus made an appearance.  She thought it was so cute, because I couldn’t pronounce the name.  Typical toddler.  I wonder what I actually called him?  Maybe it was Stephanopoulos.</p><p>“Anyway,” Lindsey carried on, cutting short my stroll down memory lane, “She’s really nice and she’s really help me out with . . . .”</p><p>My eyes started to flutter and my brain began to shut down.  Had someone slipped something into my drink, or was I maybe having a stroke . . . or was Lindsey talking about her inventory system again?  Luckily my body’s defenses kicked in and I blacked out for the next two minutes while Lindsey delivered her usual speech.</p><p>When she was done – not that I was trying to change the topic – I said, “You know you can ask her if she wants to join us.”</p><p>Lindsey glanced over at the bar . . . and then back at me.  She had a doubtful look on her face.</p><p>“What?” I asked.  “Do you think she wouldn’t want to join us?”</p><p>Lindsey didn’t speak.  She just continued to look at me.</p><p>“Why?  Why wouldn’t she want to join us?  What, has she got something against me?”</p><p>Lindsey gave her head a little tilt and scrunched up her face . . . like she was trying to send me a message.</p><p>“What?” I demanded.  “Is she scared of me or something?”</p><p>Lindsey gave a little shrug, but the look on her face said, “Duh . . . of course she is.”</p><p>Now it was my turn to be sour.  “Why would anyone be afraid of me?” I muttered, deeply offended that Lindsey could even suggest such a thing.  I am the epitome of the friendly, outgoing, inclusive person that we all strive to be.  And if Lindsey and Snuffles didn’t understand that . . . well then they were clearly total morons.</p><p>Lindsey gave me a minute to sulk, and then said, “I’ll ask her . . . but you have to be nice.  She’s just a kid, and she kind of looks up to me.  She said I’m like her mentor.”  Lindsey got a big smile.  “I’ve never been a mentor for anyone before.”  That clearly made her happy.</p><p>After a couple seconds of basking in the glow of her mentorship, she turned her eyes back to me.  Her look got serious.  “You be nice,” she pretty much ordered.</p><p>She didn’t move until I gave her a big smile, batted my eyes, and said, “Of course.  You know me.  I’m always nice.”</p><p>Maybe that wasn’t as reassuring as I thought, because Lindsey gave me another hard look before getting up and heading over to Snuffles . . . I mean Tina.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Monday morning.  Another busy weekend was behind me. </p><p>I glanced over at Lindsey as we drove in to work.  She seemed unusually awake and happy . . . for someone who’d spent a big chunk of the day Saturday at the office (no paid overtime, btw) working on that issue we don’t talk about. </p><p>At least she had her minion, Tina, in helping her.  Wouldn’t management be happy, knowing Lindsey was getting the most value out of our slave (I mean intern, who even though she wasn’t being paid, was getting plenty of useful ‘real world’ experience – the value of which was simply priceless – compliments of the always socially aware and responsible management at our company).</p><p>I was thinking I needed to find someone to mentor.  Then maybe I could get to some of those projects my manager was always ‘suggesting’ I take a look at.</p><p>Of course I only knew Lindsey had been in at work because I’d called her Saturday afternoon to see if she wanted to come over.  “We’ve got to figure out what we’re doing for our elf costumes,” I told her.</p><p>She just sighed.  After a few seconds she said, “Yeah, okay.  How about tomorrow, after church?”  It sounded like she’d resigned herself to the fact we were going to do this.  That was definitely a step in the right direction.  Who knows . . . next she might even start to get enthusiastic . . . but I wasn’t really counting on it.</p><p>So we met up on Sunday.  Lindsey picked up bagels and we ate while we discussed ideas.  Afterwards, we did a bit of shopping – just at our local bargain store, because we weren’t planning on spending big bucks on this (like I had big bucks to spend) – and then headed back to my place.</p><p>We were having a lot of fun trying on our purchases.  Lindsey already had a cute red and white striped sweater, so she’d gotten some matching tights, and added a pair of baggy knee length pants (actually, a pair of her brothers oversized shorts), with some red suspenders that she fancied up with Christmas bows.</p><p>When she put it all together she looked very festive and elfish . . . and very cute.</p><p>I’d had this short green cocktail dress that I’d borrowed from my mother (she didn’t throw out anything – I swear it was thirty years old, but it was fine for what I needed), so I’d gotten some green and red striped tights and this wide black Santa’s belt.  Lindsey had also found a pair of red elbow length gloves that we both thought looked festive.  At the end of the day she agreed the gloves looked better with my outfit. </p><p>I had plans to add a bit of trim to my dress to make it look even more Christmas-y.  I’m actually pretty handy with the sewing machine.</p><p>As I stood in front of the mirror I smiled.  I liked what I saw. </p><p>“Hmm,” I said to Lindsey, as I eyed myself.  “I bet with the right bra I could make this look even hotter.”  I grabbed my boobs and gave them a big push upwards.  I arched a brow and grinned at Lindsey.  It was that silent, ‘What do you think?’</p><p>Lindsey rolled her eyes, let out one of her long-suffering sighs, and said, “Lauren . . . we’re going to a daycare . . . and an elementary school.” </p><p>She said it like she thought that should have some bearing on how I dressed.  Just kidding . . . I got her point and dropped the idea . . . at least for this occasion.  But we did have a company Christmas party coming up.</p><p>I couldn’t help noticing that Lindsey seemed to be in a really good mood.  Rosa’s name even came up once or twice, and I was thrilled that she didn’t get all sulky or sullen like she had on Friday.</p><p>At one point, pretty much out of the blue, Lindsey got a thoughtful look on her face.  “You know,” she said, “I’m really not sure me and Rosa . . . well, I don’t think that would work.”  And saying it didn’t seem to dampen her spirits at all.  What a change from before.  Thank God.</p><p>I also noticed she wasn’t saying Rosa was wrong because she was a woman.  Another step in the right direction?  I could only hope.</p><p>After a couple of seconds, Lindsey got this huge grin on her face.  “Actually,” she said, “I think Rosa kind of has a thing for you.” </p><p>I paused . . . and then grinned right back at her.  “Well of course she does,” I told her.  “I’m totally adorable.”  I glanced at myself in the mirror again.  Yep . . . adorable.</p><p>Actually . . . I have to admit, the idea about Rosa – and maybe having someone say it out loud – left me feeling a little strange.</p><p> </p><p>So anyway, back to the drive in to work.  We were about halfway there when I remembered.  “Hey, what are you up to tonight?”</p><p>Lindsey looked at me – maybe a little cautiously – and asked, “Why?”</p><p>It was like she didn’t trust me.  When had I ever gotten her into trouble . . . or some awkward, uncomfortable situation?  Well, certainly not lately.  And the elf thing didn’t count, because she was having fun with it now . . . and besides, she made a totally cute elf.</p><p>“Well, mom’s making lasagne tonight . . . and I mentioned to her that you might be interested.”  I paused before adding, “Unless you’re planning on working,” My comment might have had just a hint of ‘what the hell?’ to it.  I was still getting over this ‘working on the weekend’ thing.</p><p>Lindsey loved my mom’s lasagne (so did I) . . . so I was certainly looking out for my cousin.  Maybe a bit for myself too.  Dinner with my parents – and I mean mostly my mom – was great, in theory, but always seemed to end up in a discussion of my prospects (or lack thereof) for marriage and future grandchildren. </p><p>In my view, I was a good five years away from even considering such a thing, whereas my mom seemed to believe I was easily five years past the point where I should have settled down and started pumping out babies (says the woman who only had one child).  This was a continuing saga.</p><p>Having Lindsey there wouldn’t stop mom’s assault, but at least then she’d spread it around a bit (because I’m knew her opinion applied to Lindsey too).</p><p>And it’s not like Lindsey didn’t know what she was getting into.  I was just hoping the prospects of lasagne made it all seem worthwhile.</p><p>Lindsey thought for a second . . . and then accepted the invitation (yay). </p><p>It seems she also felt she had to respond to my little dig about work.  She just smiled, and said, “Hey, Tina and I are making great progress with the inventory.  It’s good to finally feel like I’ve got a handle on this.  I just hope we can get it all cleaned up before Tina’s done her work term.”</p><p>Suddenly we swerved off the road, barrelled down the embankment directly towards the river . . . but at the last minute we hit a dirt pile ramp and sailed through the air all the way across it.  It was amazing!  When I fully regain consciousness we were already safely on the other side.</p><p>Just kidding . . . although I could easily have blacked out . . . with Lindsey talking about her ‘project’ again.</p><p>And speaking of her project and such, I did actually get to know her worker bee, Tina, a little better on Friday night.  Lindsey was right . . . she was a sweet kid.  Although she wasn’t really a kid . . . she was twenty one.  She just seemed a lot younger than us.  Is that a sure sign I’m getting old?  Nah, couldn’t be.</p><p>When Lindsey first dragged Tina over to our table, she was quiet as a mouse.  Maybe Lindsey was right and she was a bit intimidated by me.  But by the time we got a few drinks in her and a few more in me, things loosened up considerably.</p><p>She made it quite apparent that she was enjoying working at our company and that she loved working with Lindsey.  I spent half of the evening listening to the two of them chatter (except for those lengthy black-outs I had when their conversation strayed to ‘the project’).  I wasn’t expecting it, but it was a lot of fun.</p><p>Tina mentioned that she’d seen us (or was that me?) volunteer for the Christmas program.  “You two are going to make the cutest elves,” she gushed.  Sweet and smart.  What a wonderful combination.</p><p>I tried to suggest she’d make a cute elf too.  I offered to graciously stepped aside, so she could take my place.  Then her and Lindsey could add ‘elves’ to their ‘projects’ list.  I was joking (okay, half joking) but Lindsey put a quick and decisive end to that idea.</p><p>“Hey, you volunteered us for that whole elf-ing thing (elf-ing . . . like f-ing . . . Tina and I both thought that was hilarious.  Good one, Lindsey).  You’re not backing out.  If I have to do it, you do too.” </p><p>I guess that was pretty clear.</p><p>We ended up sticking around longer than I’d planned, and we had a wonderful time.  I was glad to see mopey Lindsey disappear, because happy, party Lindsey was a whole lot more fun to be around.</p><p>Anyway, it was nice to get to know Tina a little better and I was glad she came to realize I wasn’t some horrible ‘rhymes-with-witch’.  After all, she was only a year or two away from graduating . . . and then who knows . . . after that she’d probably end up being my boss.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lindsey and I  were just pulling into the parking lot when I had a thought.  “Hey, maybe we should go see Connie when we get in.  Rosa said she had some elf stuff we could use.  We should check it out and see what they have.”</p><p>Mentioning Rosa and our upcoming elf adventure didn’t kill Lindsey’s good mood – maybe we were truly over all that.  Instead Lindsey just nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.”</p><p>I guess we were both looking to put off the start of our work week – or maybe that was just me.</p><p>When Lindsey and I got inside, we dumped our lunches in the staff room fridge and our coats and purses at our cubicles before heading over to HR.  They had their own area because everything they did was so top secret.  Well, maybe it was supposed to be that way – but they had Connie, and Connie liked to talk – so nothing every remained top secret for very long.</p><p>I actually liked Connie, and not just because she seemed to know everything that was going on and was willing to share.  She was just fun to chat with. </p><p>When I poked my head into the HR area, Connie was parked right there with her head down working away at something.</p><p>“Hey, Connie,” I called as Lindsey and I entered.</p><p>“Hey, girls,” she responded.  “What’s up?”</p><p>I grinned.  “I just came down to talk about that pay raise,” I joked.</p><p>Connie looked up at me.  “Do they actually pay you for what you do?” she asked.  She was totally straight faced – for about five seconds – at which point she started laughing.  Lindsey was laughing too.  I wasn’t so much seeing the humor.</p><p>Yeah, Connie was lots of fun!  Right about now I was thinking the real elves were getting a nice, big lump of coal all ready for her for Christmas.</p><p>No more fun and games.  I got down to business.  “Rosa said you had some elf stuff – like, hats and shoes – that Lindsey and I could borrow.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, right,” she said, and went over to a box stashed up against the wall.  She put it onto her desk and the three of us started digging through it.</p><p>As promised, there were elf hats . . . and they did indeed have pointy little ears attached.  I could see why Rosa thought they were so amusing. </p><p>I grabbed a hat and pulled it on.  “How do I look?” </p><p>Lindsey just laughed, and then pulled the other hat on herself.</p><p>I realized these were going to be perfect with what we already had.  If possible, I think they made us look even cuter.</p><p>Lindsey pulled out her phone, wrapped her arm around me, and squealed, “Selfie,” as she started shooting pictures.  We were both giggling and grinning as she snapped away.  When she showed me the pictures I thought they looked hilarious.</p><p>“I think I’ve found my new wallpaper picture,” Lindsay laughed.  She immediately started clicking away on her phone.</p><p>After a second I asked, “What are you doing?”</p><p>She just grinned.  “I’m sending it to Tina.  She’ll love these,” she said.</p><p>I didn’t have a chance to comment on that, because right then I heard Rosa say, “You two look adorable.  You’re going to make the cutest elves ever.  Thanks again for helping out.”</p><p>When I looked up, she was casually leaning against the door frame of her office, grinning at us. </p><p>I gave Lindsey a little poke and whispered, “See . . . adorable . . . what did I tell you.”</p><p>She just shook her head at me.</p><p>“So have you figured out what else you’re going to wear?” Rosa asked.</p><p>Lindsay, said a, “Yeah,” and at the same time I said, “I think so.”  I was please to see that Lindsey had found her voice around Rosa.</p><p>“And you’re keeping it G rated, are you?” Rosa’s tone was only half joking I think.  Strangely, it almost seemed like she was looking right at me.</p><p>It was Lindsey’s turn to give me a little poke.  “G rated,” she whispered, as if to make her point.</p><p>I gave Lindsey a little scowl and then said to Rosa, “Of course.  Nothing but sweet and innocent elves.  Why would you even feel the need to ask?”</p><p>Rosa just grinned at me for what seemed like a long second.  “Of course,” she said, but the smirk on her face seemed to indicate maybe she didn’t really mean that.</p><p>After a second she asked, “So . . . we’ll have two elves ready for all the fun on Thursday?”</p><p>I slipped an arm around Lindsey and we both grinned at her as I said, “Yeah, two totally adorable elves . . . all ready to make the kids smile and . . . you know, do that teambuilding thing.”</p><p>I didn’t have to look to know Lindsey was rolling her eyes.  Rosa seemed to be struggling to keep from doing the same.  Was it a little too much?</p><p>Instead Rosa grinned and gave her head a little shake.  “Okay, ladies . . . I’m looking forward to seeing you.”  Her eyes may have lingered on me for just a second before she turned and headed back into her office.</p><p>Lindsey gave me a little poke and whispered, “Oh, she is so into you.”  She giggled happily as she and Connie turned back to the box and dug through the rest of the contents.</p><p>I found my eyes were still focused on the empty doorway.  I wasn’t sure Lindsey was wrong . . . and I wasn’t exactly sure how that made me feel.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wednesday just after lunch we got an ‘elf assistance urgently required’ email from Rosa.  She asked if we could help out putting together goodie bags for the kids.  I guess Connie had done some shopping, and now we needed to package things up so ‘Santa’ could hand them out.</p><p>We grabbed the big meeting room (anyone else in the office who might have wanted it had to deal with Connie, so good luck there) and sort of set up a production line.</p><p>Connie and I started, and then Lindsey came and brought Tina along.  Lindsey looked at the stash of sweets that Connie had bought.  She laughed and said, “Oh, the teachers are just going to love us.”</p><p>Connie laughed too.  “Well, the kids will, anyways,” she said.  “And with any luck they’ll have crashed by the time their parents get there to pick them up, so they’ll love us too.”</p><p>We had about 150 bags to stuff, so we got ourselves organized and got to work.</p><p>After a couple of minutes I heard Lindsey say, “Look at Tina checking out all that candy.  She worked through lunch, so I bet she’s starving.”</p><p>Tina looked a little embarrassed being singled out, but Lindsey just laughed at her.</p><p>“Hey, Connie,” Lindsey continued, ”Just for quality control, maybe we should have our kid test out some of the candy . . . you know, to make sure the other kids will like it.”</p><p>“I’m not that much younger than you,” Tina protested.  Oddly, I kind of got the sense she didn’t mind Lindsey’s teasing.</p><p>Connie just laughed and said, “Yeah, help yourself.  You have to know when I go shopping for stuff like this, I make sure I buy extra.  Hey, I’ve got a sweet tooth too.”  With that she grabbed a chocolate, opened it and tossed it in her mouth.</p><p>Lindsey scooped one up and held it out to Tina.  “Here, this looks like lemon.  I know you like lemon,” she said.</p><p>Tina gave her a shy smile and a soft, “Thank you,” before taking the candy from her.  After she popped it into her mouth she gave a happy little, “Mmm,” before saying.  “That’s really good.”  She gave Lindsey another shy smile and another, “Thanks.”</p><p>The two of them might have noticed me watching them . . . except they seemed to only have eyes for each other.  Connie was oblivious.</p><p>“My God,” I thought, “Is there a little something happening between Lindsey and the intern?”</p><p>It was so hard to be sure.  I didn’t know if they’d just gotten close, and if Tina really looked up to Lindsey . . . or if this was something else altogether. </p><p>After a couple of seconds I had to give myself a mental head slap and pull my eyes away.  I didn’t want them to notice me staring and get all self-conscious. </p><p>Maybe this could be the reason for Lindsey’s good mood lately, though.  It might explain why she’d gotten over her whole thing with Rosa so quickly too.  Lindsey had move on.  And I had to say, I thought Tina was maybe a better match for her . . . assuming there actually was something here.</p><p>I found myself smiling.  I felt happy for Lindsey . . . even if she’d (maybe) found someone without my help. </p><p>I was in such a good mood I grabbed a chocolate and popped it in my mouth.  Hey, it wasn’t celery, but . . ..  Who was I kidding, I was seriously starting to hate celery.  So I helped myself to another chocolate.</p><p>About a half hour into it Rosa popped in to ‘see how we were doing.’</p><p>I glanced up at her and said, “Don’t just stand there Miss Rosa.  You can pull up a seat and help out too, you know.”</p><p>I think she was a little shocked.  I’m not sure anybody – even her boss – really ordered her around.  She certainly wasn’t used to it from someone at my level.</p><p>She recovered quickly, though.  She gave me a little smile and said, “Yes, ma’am,” as she pulled up a chair and started working at stuffing the goodie bags.</p><p>Connie looked over my way and seemed impressed.</p><p>Rosa stuffed one of the gift bags and then held it up to me.  “Just thought I’d make sure I’m doing this right,” she said.  She sounded quite amused.</p><p>I glanced over, carefully checking out the job she’d done, and when I’d satisfied myself I said, “Okay, not too bad.  Once you’ve stuffed the bag you can hand it off to Tina.  She’s got the ribbon and is tying them all up.  Then grab another bag.  No slacking off, okay.”</p><p>Hey, maybe I had management potential.  I was kind of enjoying bossing people around.</p><p>Rosa just laughed and gave me another, “Yes, ma’am.”  She actually saluted too, before she started laughing some more.</p><p>She stuck around for maybe twenty minutes, and then said she had a meeting she had to go to.</p><p>“Of course you do,” I said, sounding maybe a touch skeptical. </p><p>She tried to give me a glare, but it fell apart quickly and turned into a giggle. </p><p>“Hopefully you can manage without me,” she said as she rose to leave.  Actually, it seemed she was talking mainly to me.  Was that becoming a thing when we were in a group?</p><p>In fact, the whole time she’d been there, it seemed she’d mainly been talking to me . . . and maybe even flirting with me.</p><p>I didn’t think it was my imagination.  I can be a bit flirty too, at times . . . so I know flirting.</p><p>Before Rosa left, she thanked us.  “Who knows . . . ,” she said somewhat cryptically, “Santa might even come up with a reward for all of his helpers.” </p><p>I hoped by ‘Santa’ she wasn’t referring to Big Tony, because I’d be a little frightened to imagine what kind of ‘reward’ he might come up with for us.  Best case, it would be beer . . . and worst case . . . I didn’t even want to go there!</p><p>Rosa gave us (or was that me) one last big smile and then turned and was gone.</p><p>A second after she’d left, Lindsey was poking me.  As if to confirm my thought, she gave me the raised brows and a big grin.  She didn’t have to speak for me to know what she was thinking.</p><p>I was back to being a little uncertain – not something I usually ever felt.  I had to admit, I’d been enjoying myself with Rosa.  She was definitely a lot of fun, but . . . .</p><p>By that point we were pretty much done.  I stuffed another chocolate into my mouth – it tasted so good.  Why had I deprived myself for so long.</p><p>We helped Connie load all the bags into a big box and then she carried it back to HR while me, Lindsey, and Tina headed back to our cubicles.</p><p>When we parted ways, Lindsey was still grinning at me.  I was sure she’d mention Rosa on the drive home.  I was wondering if I should mention Tina too.  I decided probably not.  I’d just watch and see where that went.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Changing in the washroom at work is never fun.  It’s kind of gross if you think about it.  The only thing that could possibly have made it worse was if we had a washroom we shared with the guys – like the one they had down in the warehouse (I’m pretty sure none of the ladies ever used it).  That would be so much worse.</p><p>Finally I stepped out of the stall in my dress and tights.  I checked it out in the mirror and was happy with what I saw.  I’d added some red trim around the top of the dress and little red dangly balls around the hem.  I thought both additions had made for a very festive improvement.  I dug in my bag for my elf hat and carefully put it on, making sure my hair fell out around it just perfectly.  Finally I pulled on my gloves and I was ready.</p><p>I banged on the other stall and shouted, “Come on, Lindsey, we’ve got to get going.”</p><p>“Just a minute,” she shot back, sounding a little annoyed.  No matter the occasion, that girl took forever to get ready.</p><p>I turned back to the mirror and touched up my lipstick.  It was a nice, bright, festive red too.</p><p>I was just finishing when Lindsey made her appearance.  “Don’t forget your hat,” I told her.</p><p>She pulled it on, and then took her turn in front of the mirror while I checked her over too.  She looked like a perfect, cute little elf.  Of course I thought I did too.</p><p>“You look great,” I told her. </p><p>Lindsey smiled in the mirror and said, “Yeah, I do, don’t I.”</p><p>She turned to me, looked me over carefully, and then gave me a big grin.  “We’re going to be the cutest elves ever,” she exclaimed.  She sounded pretty happy for someone who didn’t originally want to do this.</p><p>I glanced at the two of us in the mirror.  “Yeah, totally adorable.  Hey, should we take a selfie?”</p><p>I’m surprised I even had to make the suggestion.  Lindsey was the selfie queen.</p><p>A second later we had a dozen pictures of ourselves.</p><p>“Are you going to send a copy to Tina?” I asked, trying my best to sound all innocent . . . but terribly curious to hear her answer.</p><p>Lindsey got a big smile – you know, the kind where your eyes light up and your face seems to glow – and said, “Good idea.  I think she’ll love it.”  Her thumbs were a blur and then the picture was gone.</p><p>Yep, I was thinking maybe there was a little something happening between elf Lindsey and her helper.  What would Santa say!! </p><p>For that matter, what would HR say?  I was starting to think maybe I should have a little talk with Lindsey.</p><p>At least Tina’s work term lasted only another week and a bit (it ended at Christmas).  Then she’d be back at college . . . and if her and Lindsey decided to get up to something at that point, it was no one’s business but their own (that comment didn’t apply to me, of course . . . I expected Lindsey to share all the details.  I was so excited for her).</p><p>We gathered up our stuff, dumped whatever we didn’t need at my cubicle (because it was closer to the washroom) and then headed down to the loading dock area where we were all meeting up.  There were about a dozen of us going, so we had a couple of company vans waiting to take us.</p><p>Lindsey started to put her jacket on at my cubicle, but I told her not to. </p><p>She looked at me, gave her head a little shake and said, “You just live for the attention, don’t you?”</p><p>“You can put your coat on if you really want to,” I told her, but of course she just slung it over her arm and followed me.</p><p>The two of us made a grand entrance into the warehouse to much whistling and cheering (and perhaps a few suggestive comment, most of which I chose to ignore).  From the grin I saw on Lindsey’s face, I could tell she was loving the attention every bit as much as I was.</p><p>We made our way to the loading dock, where there was a huddle of people waiting, including Connie – with her boxes of goodies that she’d had the guys haul down from her office – and Tina.  Yep, I confirmed with Connie that Lindsey had arranged for Tina to join us.  And why not . . . she’d help put together all the goodie bags.</p><p>Tina seemed to be fawning over Lindsey, telling her how cute she looked.  She did eventually toss me a, “You look nice too,” before turning her full attention back to Lindsey.  I was okay with that.</p><p>The fuss over us was just starting to die down when I looked over and saw Rosa hurrying towards us.  Following behind her was Santa . . . or at least a really bad version of Mr. Clause.  Mrs. Clause did not look pleased.</p><p>I have to say, I would have been willing to bet big bucks that nobody could pull off a ‘sexy old lady’ costume . . . but I would have lost.  Even with her grey wig and the little round glasses perched at the end of her nose, Rosa looked good (maybe an understatement).  I wondered if I should be concerned that that was the first thought I had when I saw her.</p><p>Rosa came hustling right up to me.  She was shaking her head and muttering in what I realized was Spanish.</p><p>She heaved a sigh and said, “We’re having a problem with payroll and I’ve got to deal with that before we go.”  She muttered to herself, “Well, at least if we all want to get paid this week. (yes, please, I was thinking)”</p><p>Then she turned and glanced over her shoulder at Big Tony, who was just making his way up to the group.  I think everyone had stopped talking and were staring at him.  He had not done a stellar job getting into character.</p><p>Rosa turned back to me.  “Lauren, please, can you help me out?”  Her eyes were pleading with me. </p><p>She didn’t have to tell me what it was that needed the ‘help’.  I glanced at Tony and then back at her.  “Yeah, sure.  Lindsey and I have got this,” I told her.  “You go do your thing.”  I grinned as I added, “Because I don’t know about you, but I really need to get paid this week.  Otherwise everybody’s getting a rock this Christmas.”</p><p>Lindsey had overheard the conversation and felt the need to comment.  “A rock.  I think that’s what you got me last year.”</p><p>I looked at her and said, “Hey, that was a nice rock.”  She just laughed.</p><p>I turned back to Rosa and said, “Go.  We’ll take care of this.”</p><p>That got me a big smile.  She put her hand on my arm (I thought HR was against all that touching in the workplace) and gave it a little squeeze.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much.  I’m going to be quick . . . and then we can go.”  I was getting the happy, sparkling eyes to go with the big smile.</p><p>Rosa seemed to linger.  She shared that smile for another second, gave my arm another squeeze, and then turned and rushed off.</p><p>I found myself watching her as she went . . . until Lindsey poked me.  I didn’t even need to look at her to know about the big, cheesy grin she had on her face.</p><p>I gave her a little scowl, and then directed my attention to Tony.  I just shook my head.  “Come on,” I said to Lindsey, “we’ve got some work to do.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, that went great,” I said as I tried to straighten out my hair.  I know I’d laughed at plenty of the guys from the warehouse who had ‘hard hat hair’ at the end of the day, but I’d never heard of ‘elf hat hair’ before.  It was kind of annoying me.</p><p>Lindsey came out of the bathroom stall, five minutes after me again – what took that girl so long.</p><p>“Yeah, that was fun,” she admitted as she stepped up in front of the mirror, ran her hand through her hair, and gave her head a little shake.  Magically her hair fell back into place and looked perfect (maybe she had a bit of elf magic in her).  It was so unfair.</p><p>We’d all had a great time . . . even Big Tony, I think, once we got him straightened out.  He actually made a pretty good Santa and all the kids seemed to love him.</p><p>Everyone seemed to love me and Lindsey too . . . especially the two male teachers at the elementary school and the dad who was there helping out with the event.  Actually, Ms. Taylor, the vice principal at the elementary school, seemed quite taken with me and Lindsey too.  Hmm.</p><p>And the two of us had the best time with the kids.  I’d forgotten how much fun it was playing with little kids.  It was a blast.  Maybe my mom was right . . . and it was time for Lindsey to settle down and procreate (I was ready to be an auntie . . . just not a mommy). </p><p>Although that might be getting a bit complicated, I thought, with this whole ‘into women’ thing.  I knew that didn’t tend to lead to the pitter-patter of little feet.</p><p>As for our big Christmas event, the highlight for me was when this one sweet little pre-schooler came up to Lindsey at the day care.  She tugged on Lindsey’s pant leg and stood there staring up at her, wide eyed and in utter awe.  Lindsey knelt down, gave her a big smile, and asked the girl her name. </p><p>“I’m Sienna,” she said in that serious, little kid voice, before adding, “and I think you’re the most beautiful elf I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>That got a major “Oooh,” from me and Rosa and Tina, who’d all been watching.</p><p>Rosa put her hand on my arm and said, “That is sooo sweet.”  It seemed Rosa had found all kinds of reasons to touch my arm or brush her hand against mine during the events.  Maybe I’d have to take this ‘unwanted touching’ up with HR . . . except I was finding I really didn’t mind.  In fact, it seemed I was kind of encouraging it.  Yep, more confusion.</p><p>Meanwhile, when little Sienna made her comment, I thought I heard Tina almost whisper, “She really is,” which I assumed referred to Lindsey being ‘the most beautiful elf ever’.  It seemed Tina was giving Lindsey almost the same wide-eyed look as little Sienna.  Was there really even a question anymore about Tina and Lindsey?  I decided it was time I had a little chat with my cousin . . . just to make sure I wasn’t missing out on anything juicy.</p><p>Little Sienna’s comment left Lindsey looking almost teary eyed, she was so touched.  She gave her a big hug – in spite of the ‘official’ hands off policy with the kids – and told her little admirer that she thought she was very beautiful too.  For the rest of the time at the pre-school Sienna hung very close to either Lindsey or me – apparently I didn’t look too bad for an elf either.</p><p>By the end, I was sure Lindsey would have scooped little Sienna up and taken her with us if she thought she could get away with it.  As it was, we all had to give her a big hug before we left – even Rosa and Tina – and we waved to her through the van windows as we drove off.  It really was very special.</p><p>The kids at the elementary school were entertaining too – maybe not quite up to little Sienna’s level, but still fun.  On the drive back to the office all of us were gushing about how much we had enjoyed ourselves.  I think me and Lindsey were ready to sign up for next year.  Who would have thought it.</p><p>When we got back to the office, Lindsey and I headed off to change.  Rosa, Tina and Connie were tagging along. </p><p>“Are you sure you want to change?” Rosa teased.  “You elves were kind of a big hit.  I don’t think anyone would complain if you stayed in character for the rest of the day.”</p><p>She had been teasing Lindsey and me throughout the day . . . well, maybe mainly me.  I didn’t mind . . . well, sort of.  I was still struggling to understand the way I felt. </p><p>Rosa definitely seemed to be flirting with me, and I was having a hard time deciding if I was okay with that.  Mostly I just laughed it off and played along . . . but at times, when I thought about it, I got this big lump in my stomach.  I felt confused and unsure of myself, and those just weren't feelings I was used to.  So maybe I was a bit stressed . . . which was new to me.</p><p>In spite of my confusion, though, I found myself replying, “I can’t believe someone from HR would say such a thing.  I’m sure that’s sexist or something.”  I tried to sound indignant, but it was hard to keep the laughter out of my voice.</p><p>Rosa just smiled at me.  She really did have a beautiful smile – which shouldn’t have mattered to me in the least! </p><p>“One of the big jobs in HR is keeping moral up,” she responded.  She was trying to sound serious too, but she wasn’t doing any better at it than I had.</p><p>In fact, she broke into a huge grin as she added, “I’m thinking you and Lindsey parading around as elves might do more for morale than free beers on Fridays.” </p><p>I wasn’t sure I quite believed that . . . although it might be close.</p><p>As we entered the offices I told her, “I really hate to upset your plan, but I’m changing.  These tights are a little too tight, and this dress wasn’t exactly built for comfort.”</p><p>“Did you have too many of those chocolates?” Rosa’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she spoke. </p><p>“I’ll talk to you later,” was my general response to Rosa, Tina and Connie as I headed into the washroom.  Maybe my tone was a little cooler than it had been.  Was it possible Rosa had touched on a sensitive topic?  Yeah, maybe (celery sticks, here I come)!</p><p>So fifteen minutes later, after I changed and finally got my hair looking somewhat presentable, I glanced over at Lindsey.  She was smiling and had a far-away look on her face.</p><p>“Thinking about your secret admirer?” I asked.</p><p>My words seemed to catch her by surprise.  Her head jerked towards me, her eyes widened and then quickly fell away, and I saw her cheeks redden noticeably. </p><p>“I meant little Sienna,” I said softly, although I thought I knew which ‘admirer’ she might have been thinking about . . . given her reaction.</p><p>Lindsey still seemed a little flustered, but she gave me a weak smile and nodded.  “Yeah . . . Sienna.”  Her face brightened.  “She was super sweet,” she said as she turned her eyes back to mine.</p><p>“Does it make you want to have one?” I asked.</p><p>Lindsey nodded.  “Yeah . . . some day . . . for sure.”</p><p>“Oh, my mom will be so thrilled to hear that.  I think I’ll tell her tonight,” I teased.</p><p>I guess Lindsey wasn’t taking any chances.  “Don’t you dare,” she said.  It wasn’t a gentle request . . . that was an order.  And one I’d definitely follow.</p><p>After a few seconds Lindsey’s smile reappeared.  “You seemed to be having a good time with Rosa,” she said. </p><p>I guess it was my turn to be caught off-guard.  I felt my face flush and without even thinking I heard myself say, “Sort of like you and Tina I guess.”</p><p>It came out a little harsh, like an accusation.  I really didn’t mean it that way.  I guess Lindsey just hit on another of my sore spots – with all the confusion and uncertainty I was feeling – and I got way too defensive and lashed out.  I was sorry the second the words left my lips.</p><p>I felt even worse when I saw the shocked look on Lindsey’s face.  She stared at me wide-eyed for a second or two.  Her mouth opened like she was going to say something . . . but then she didn’t.  Instead she abruptly turned and rushed out of the washroom.</p><p>I felt just horrible.  I wanted to rush after her and apologize . . . but I was afraid we’d just cause a big scene out in the office and that would only make things worse.</p><p>I dropped my head and closed my eyes.  As much as it seemed at times that this whole Rosa thing was nothing, it was becoming apparent to me that that wasn’t the case.  This was something I really had to deal with.</p><p>I started to wonder if the way I was feeling was like Lindsey felt when I’d bugged her about Rosa or other women.  Did she feel this same confusion and uncertainty?  Is that why she was so touchy all the time?  Maybe my persistence had been a bit insensitive – I could probably forget about the ‘maybe’.  Something else for me to apologize for.</p><p>I’d really have to do something to make it up to Lindsey, I realized.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was so happy to see Lindsey coming out of her place and heading to my car for the ride to work. </p><p>I’d tried going by her desk the previous day, to let her know how sorry I was for my comment (and my tone), but she wasn’t there.  I’d sent her a text apologizing – I know that’s not the same as saying it in person, but I really wanted her to know I felt bad and I regretted my words.</p><p>She’d sent back a text telling me she was getting a ride home and she’d see me later.  This was big.  I always gave her a ride.  I felt horrible.</p><p>I’d tried to call her in the evening, but it just went through to voice mail.  I left a couple of messages, but didn’t hear back from her.</p><p>I was feeling so guilty that I tossed and turned all night.  I felt like crap in the morning, but I made sure I was at Lindsey’s place early.  I needed to see her and talk to her.  I just hoped she was ready to talk to me.</p><p>That’s why I was thrilled to see her open my car door and climb in, like she did any other morning.</p><p>The second the door closed – even before she had her seat belt on – I was apologizing.</p><p>“Lindsey, I’m so sorry.  I’m just such a horrible bitch.  I didn’t mean what I said.  I had no right to say anything.  I was just . . . I don’t know . . . this whole Rosa thing has got me all messed up.  I know it’s not an excuse.  It was still totally wrong and I apologize.  I’m really, really sorry.”</p><p>I had turned in my seat to face her, because I wanted her to see I was completely sincere.  I just really hoped she could forgive me.</p><p>So I was a little floored when she turned to me, gave me a little smile and said, “It’s fine.  No big deal.”</p><p>My mouth kind of dropped open and I stared at her, not believing the words I’d heard. </p><p>She just sat there, grinning at me, seemingly enjoying my stunned look.</p><p>Finally I gave my head a shake.  “Are you kidding me?” I demanded.  I guess I hadn't learned because my tone was maybe a little harsh again.</p><p>“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be apologizing?” she shot back.</p><p>I gathered myself and said, “I’m sorry, I just . . . ,” but as I started to apologize again Lindsey got another big grin on her face.</p><p>I stopped.  I looked at her.  I’m sure my confusion was apparent . . . which I could see Lindsey found to be very amusing.</p><p>“What?” I said.  “What am I missing?”  I was starting to wonder if I had toothpaste on my face or if my ‘elf hat hair’ had come back and was doing something funky.</p><p>“I forgive you,” Lindsey started.  She was still giving me that big grin.  “I’m totally aware that sometimes you can be a total bitch,” she added.</p><p>That didn’t sound so much like she really forgave me.  I kept my mouth shut, though, as she carried on.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m used to that.” </p><p>Hmm, certainly not a stellar endorsement of my character.  Maybe there were a few things I needed to work on.</p><p>She got a distant, thoughtful look.  “What you said, though . . . it kind of surprised me.”</p><p>She glanced back at me, and smiled. </p><p>“I got Tina to give me a ride home last night.  She could see I was upset . . . so she came in and we talked.”  Her smile grew and her eyes seemed to sparkle.  “We talked a lot,” she added and laughed.  It was a very happy laugh.</p><p>Her eyes drifted far away again.  I assumed she was (fondly) remembering her long night of talking with Tina.  I found myself getting excited.  Screw work!  I wanted to hear more. </p><p>After Lindsey’s pause went on for an unbearable amount of time (okay, maybe five seconds), I cracked.  “So?” I demanded.</p><p>She turned her eyes back to me and gave me a smug little smile.  She still didn’t speak, though. </p><p>She was doing this on purpose.  She clearly knew it would drive me crazy.  I wasn’t going to fall for it, though.  I knew better . . . . </p><p>I’m totally lying . . . I was going insane waiting to hear more.  “Tell me,” I almost begged her.</p><p>She laughed.  Yes, I was certain she was enjoying torturing me like this.  One sure way to drive me crazy (crazier?) was to tell me there was dirt and then refuse to share all the details with me. </p><p>I just gaped at her, willing her to open her mouth and spill it all.</p><p>My psychic powers must have been working because finally Lindsey said, “Tina and I had a really good . . . talk.” </p><p>She got this bashful little smile that looked so cute.  She took a couple of seconds before continuing, but finally said simply, “Maybe you weren’t totally wrong . . . what you said yesterday.”</p><p>“So you and Tina?” I asked excitedly.</p><p>Her grin grew huge.  “Yeah, I kind of think there’s something there . . . and I think we both feel the same.”</p><p>Her grin was getting so big I was afraid she might pull something.  I’m sure that’s possible.</p><p>She was pretty much gushing when she added, “We’re going to take it slow . . . this is all new to her too . . . but . . . .”</p><p>I swear her grin got even bigger.</p><p>“. . . but I’m so excited.  I just feel like I’m bursting.”</p><p>I was so happy for Lindsey.  I’d seen her in many (many, many) relationships, but I don’t think I’d ever seen her this excited at the start of one.  Honestly, the last few ones she’d seemed almost miserable before they’d even got going. </p><p>I so hoped this would work out for her.  I had no illusions . . . I knew it would have its own special challenges to it . . . but I was still hopeful.</p><p>Do you think she could tell I was happy for her.  I was just about vibrating in my seat and squealing like a hyper teenager.  I launched myself across the car to give her a big hug.  Of course I forgot about one little detail – my seat belt – and almost ruptured something.  But I had it off in a second and then gave her that hug. </p><p>It looked like all was forgiven.  I thought I’d wait a day or two before I started taking credit for getting the two of them together.  That just seemed wise.  But I had no doubt I had given them the final push they needed to admit what they both were obviously feeling.  That’s not delusional, is it?</p><p>When I finally let Lindsey go and crawled back across the console into my seat, she gave me a serious look and said, “You can’t tell anyone, right?  Tina’s still got a week left of work and HR would probably freak if they found out about this while she was doing work for me.”</p><p>I was relieved to hear her say that . . . because if she didn’t I was planning on saying something to her.  And I would have hated having to be a big buzz kill when she was so excited.</p><p>She got another big grin.  “Besides, I’ve got to help write her final evaluation.”</p><p>Okay, I was back to maybe worrying a little. </p><p>How crazy was this – I was anything but a ‘by the rules’ person, generally, whereas Lindsey was typically all about doing things the right way.  Now I was the one worrying about Lindsey and Tina at work.  How messed up was that?</p><p>“Uh, are you sure you should be writing that evaluation?” I asked.  I was trying to make it sound like it was just a casual question, and maybe not a judgement.</p><p>It didn’t matter how I meant it, though, because Lindsey didn’t take it too well.  “Why wouldn’t I write it?” she demanded in a cranky, petulant voice.  “She’s done more work for me than anybody else.”</p><p>I’m thinking maybe she knew deep down that it wasn’t a good idea . . . and quite possibly that’s why she was so touchy.</p><p>I took a second.  I watched her but she was just staring off.</p><p>“Sweetie,” I said softly, trying my best not to rile her up.  “They’d definitely need your input for it . . . but how can you write it when you’re . . . sort of going out with her?”</p><p>She just continued to stare out the front windshield and didn’t say anything.  She didn’t look too happy . . . but I think she knew I was right.</p><p>I really was feeling totally out of my element.  I’d generally be the first one yelling, “Screw the system!”  Instead I was arguing with Lindsey to act proper and follow the rules.  Something truly weird was happening here.</p><p>I knew the reason though.  So I said, “I just don’t want you . . . or Tina . . . to get messed up by something like this.” </p><p>I didn’t bother to go on and say the obvious . . . if people found out they were a couple a week or a month or whatever after Tina left, there’d be a question in everyone’s mind.  And that could impact both of them.  I was pretty sure Lindsey already knew that.  And I was confident she’d eventually see the light and do the right thing.</p><p>“You should really talk to HR,” I continued.  “It’s not like you’re the first person who started dating someone from the office, so it’s not that big of a deal.  Maybe talk to Rosa . . . at least then you know there won’t be any judgements about . . . well, you know.”</p><p>I was pleased to see Lindsey actually nodding her head . . . even if it was maybe reluctantly.  Yes, it seemed common sense would prevail.  Who would have ever guessed, though, that I would be its advocate? This was certainly a day to mark on the calendar.</p><p>I gave Lindsey a minute to think things over before I asked, “Should I get going now?  Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”</p><p>Lindsey glanced down at her watch and I saw her tense.  “Yes.  Go,” she almost shouted.  “We’re going to be late.”  Clearly she’d just realized that.</p><p>Before I started the car I found myself staring at her and grinning.  It took her a few seconds to notice.  She finally glanced over at me and gave me a sheepish little smile.</p><p>“What?” she asked, knowing full well why I was looking at her that way.</p><p>It didn’t stop me from saying, “I’m really happy for you, cuz.”</p><p>I saw her smile grow.  She gave me a shy little glance and a quiet, “Thanks.”</p><p>I really felt thrilled for her.  I know the day started a little shaky, but it had really turned itself around.  I was feeling all warm and happy inside now.  </p><p>I started the car, put it into gear and took off.</p><p>We drove in silence for maybe five minutes . . . which was a little weird for us.  Typically one or both of us were talking from the time we got into the car until we got to the office.</p><p>Finally Lindsey asked, “So, are you taking anybody to the Christmas party?”</p><p>The company Christmas party was on Saturday – tomorrow – and I hadn't even thought about it in probably a week.  The last time we’d talked about it I was full of ideas for dates.  That was back when Lindsey was hung up on Rosa and she hadn't been at all interested in the topic.</p><p>I hadn’t done anything about it since then, so I didn’t have anyone lined up.  I just shrugged and told Lindsey, “I don’t think I’m going to bother with a date.  Then the guy always get all clingy and thinks you’re a thing or something.  And of course afterwards they act like it’s a gimme . . . like they’re going to get some.  It’s always such a pain.”</p><p>“You’re going, though?” she asked.</p><p>I nodded.  “Yeah, I’m going.  It’ll be good to just have some fun and not worry about a date, though.  That sounds way better I think.”</p><p>Actually, we had a pretty young bunch of people in our operation, so there were typically plenty of singles who were there to party and have a good time.  I figured I could join in the fun.</p><p>I glanced over at Lindsey.  “So you’re planning on going, aren’t you? I asked.  Normally I’d just assume that was a given, but with recent developments, I wasn’t so sure.</p><p>But she nodded.  “Yeah, I think so.”</p><p>“And Tina’s coming?”  I assumed that if she wasn’t then Lindsey would probably skip it too . . . again, given recent developments.</p><p>“Yeah, she is,” Lindsey confirmed.  She got that bashful little smile again. </p><p>It was so cute.  I couldn’t help grinning. </p><p>Lindsey seemed to notice, because she immediately said, “You’ve got to act normal around me and Tina.”  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she paused, grinned, and gave her head a little shake – like maybe asking me to act ‘normal’ was an impossible request.  “You know what I mean,” she added.</p><p>I should have been annoyed . . . but I was in too good of a mood.  So I just looked over at her and laughed.  “You know your secret’s safe with me,” I told her.  I think she was pretty confident in me.  I really wasn’t one to tell secrets – and Lindsey and I had had a few over the years.</p><p>We were quiet for another minute, but then I could feel Lindsey staring at me.  After a couple of seconds she said, “I guess Rosa will be there, too.”  She said it softly, and I could hear a hint of something in her voice.  She didn’t really sound like she was teasing . . . was it her turn to be hopeful?</p><p>I felt that tightness in my stomach again and I found myself gripping the steering wheel.  I didn’t reply.</p><p>“It seemed like you and Rosa were having a lot of fun yesterday,” she continued.  It maybe sounded like a casual observation, but I was pretty sure there was more to it.</p><p>Now I was gritting my teeth too.  I felt like I should respond . . . but I knew it would come out angry and defensive . . . just like it had yesterday.  So I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.</p><p>I wondered if she was thinking, “If I have a girlfriend, maybe it would be cool if Lauren did too.” </p><p>That would take a bit of the spotlight off of her.  I understood that . . . if that was what she was thinking (even subconsciously).  I loved my cousin, but I wasn’t going to go out with Rosa just to make life easier for Lindsey.</p><p>Thinking about Rosa reminded me what a confusing mess my feelings were.  Rosa and I did have lots of laughs when we were out doing the Santa thing . . . and I had to admit I always seemed to have fun when she was around.  Enjoying hanging out with someone was one thing, though . . . but what Lindsey was suggesting was something else altogether. </p><p>Honestly, it would have been so much easier if I was just totally revolted by the idea of anything with Rosa – or any woman.  In truth, I didn’t exactly fantasize about it . . . but I also couldn’t say I was put off by it.  The thought of, say, Rosa kissing me left me feeling . . . confused.  I was back to that.  It was like I was just going round and round and never getting any closer to an answer.  It was so frustrating. </p><p>And apparently distracting because Lindsey let out a little gasp and shrieked, “Pay attention, Lauren!  You just ran a red light.”</p><p>Maybe it wouldn’t matter.  Maybe I’d end up killing us and I wouldn’t have to figure this out.  Okay, that was a little dark and morbid and wasn’t me at all.  I guess that gave me a sense of just how frustrated I was feeling.</p><p>As I rolled into the parking lot, I found myself thinking – for, like, the millionth time – that this whole thing with Rosa was something I had to figure out . . . and soon . . . for the sake of my sanity (such as it was).</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first email came shortly after nine.  It was from Rosa and it was titled, “For All of Santa’s Helpers”.  She’d thanked us again for making our team building event a success, and said as a reward, she – okay, the company – wanted to take us out for lunch . . . you know, if people were interested.</p><p>I responded in record time.  I was always up for free food.</p><p>Emails flew back and forth for the next two hours.  Rosa had suggested doing it early next week but it seemed a number of people were starting their Christmas holidays then.  The same applied to the week between Christmas and New Years – a bunch of people were gone – and the start of the new year was always a hectic time.  Finally she’d asked, “How about today then?  I know it’s short notice, but can we do it?”</p><p>I guess it worked for everybody, because just before eleven Rosa confirmed she had a reservation for today at Nick’s, a local restaurant that I just happened to love. </p><p>Forget those celery sticks, I’m going to Nick’s!  Not bad . . . maybe I could get a job writing ads.</p><p>Okay, I may have been doing a little celebrating . . . and just when I’d convinced myself to start taking this ‘eating healthy’ thing seriously again. </p><p>Oh well, Christmas season was a lost cause anyway.  I think mom started her Christmas baking right after Halloween . . . and it would be terribly inconsiderate to not enjoy the products of her labors.  Yes, it was a sacrifice, but I was willing to make it.  I was sure I’d get serious about eating healthier in January.</p><p>It took a little more organizing, but soon it was lunch time and we were there.  I’d driven Lindsey and Tina – they were so cute together doing their best to act like nothing was going on and failing badly.  It left me grinning from ear to ear.</p><p>I was grinning at them again as we walked into the restaurant.  Lindsey gave me a little poke in the ribs and said, “Stop that.”</p><p>“But you two are just so cute,” I gushed.  That got both of them blushing.</p><p>I did my best to rein myself in. </p><p>The waitress showed us to our tables.  They’d given us a couple of tables – each sat six – nearer the back of the place, which was fine. </p><p>We were the first ones there – you know, I always consider it rude to be late – so we grabbed one of the tables.  Lindsey and Tina sat together at the back of the table, and I sat across from them.  I wasn’t sure whether I should separate them . . . for their own good . . . but they were just so cute that I couldn’t. </p><p>Soon other people started showing up.  Big Tony plopped himself down on the chair at the end of our table, beside me and Lindsey, and started chatting.  I think he was trying to look down my top again. </p><p>A gang of guys from the warehouse grabbed the other table and started up a loud discussion on which teams were going to the Super Bowl this year.  That certainly distracted Tony.  I figured he was regretting his choice to sit here with the ‘ladies’.</p><p>I could see him leaning back and listening in on the conversation from the other table.  I felt a little sorry for him, so finally I said, “Hey, Tony, you know that no one here’s going to be talking about football . . . or hockey . . . so if you want to go join the guys . . . .”</p><p>He took one quick look around, decided that none of us were going to be offended (or that he didn’t care if we were, maybe), and then was out of there.  I’m sure that’s the fastest I’d ever seen Tony move . . .  well, except maybe when they brought pizza into the warehouse for the boys.</p><p>Last to arrive was our host, Rosa, who brought Connie with her.  Rosa quickly slid into the chair beside mine while Connie grabbed the seat at the other end of the table.</p><p>I glanced over and saw Rosa smiling at me as she slipped off her coat and made herself comfortable.</p><p>I felt that knot in my stomach again.</p><p>Rosa started chatting, saying again how much she appreciated Lindsey and me helping out and how cute we had looked as elves.  I was very aware of the way she brushed her hand over my arm as she spoke.  I felt so conflicted . . . I didn’t really hate it . . . but . . . .</p><p>To distract myself I grabbed the menu and buried my face in it.  I glanced over the top and saw Lindsey looking at me.  She had a big grin on her face.  I dropped my eyes back down to the menu, but I could feel a sudden warmth coming to my cheeks.</p><p>I was painfully aware of Rosa beside me.  I half expected her to start rubbing her foot against my leg under the table (a move I had used on more than one occasion).  Actually, I thought she was way too professional to do something like that, but just the idea that she might . . . well, it seemed to affect me.</p><p>Rosa rested her hand lightly on my arm and asked, “Have you decided what you’re having?”</p><p>It was all purely innocent – I’m sure – but that’s not how I was taking it.</p><p>I started to speak, but my throat was dry and my voice was all croaky.  I had to take a quick sip of water.  Even then, I felt my cheeks flushing again.  “Um, I might share something with Lindsey.  The servings are pretty big here,” I told her.</p><p>“And there’s no celery on the menu,” Rosa added.  She had a big grin and that mischievous glint in her eyes.  After a second she quietly added, “Not that you need it.”</p><p>My rosy cheeks were back again.  I really hoped everyone just assumed they were leftover from me being out in the cold.</p><p>I started to wonder how Rosa would even know about my celery thing . . . and then my eyes fell on Connie at the end of the table.  I should have realized . . . Connie wasn’t just my source of information.  She was willing to spill on anyone . . . and she really did know everything that was going on around the office.</p><p>While I was distracted with all my thoughts, I almost didn’t catch Lindsey saying to me, “Ah, actually, Tina and I were going to share something.”</p><p>I’m sure I gave her a hurt look.  Lindsey and I always shared.  But then I looked at the her and Tina sitting there, scooched up close together, sharing the same menu.  They were so adorable.  My pout transformed into that big goofy grin.  I couldn’t stay mad.  Of course they should share.</p><p>Before I could even start puzzling over what I would do, Rosa said, “I’ll share something with you.”</p><p>“That’s good, because I’m not sharing,” Connie muttered from the end of the table.</p><p>I turned to Rosa and looked at her.  Super healthy Rosa . . . I wondered what she would have in a place like this.  A tofu burger and a single fry maybe?</p><p>I guess she could see the skepticism on my face, because she glanced back at her menu and said, “I was thinking about getting a burger.  I thought the cheddar bacon burger sounded good.”</p><p>She turned her eyes back to me.  I saw a little smirk on her face.  “Or is that too unhealthy for you?”</p><p>I think my stomach growled loud enough for everyone at the table to hear and I started to salivate.  Call me Pavlov’s dog.  Nick’s cheddar bacon burger was a particular favorite of mine (I have a lot of favorites . . . and surprisingly, none of them are that healthy).</p><p>I played it very coy, though.  “Well, okay . . . if that’s what you want,” I said, almost hesitantly.  “I don’t want to be difficult, so I guess I can live with that.”</p><p>I heard Lindsey let out a snorting little laugh across the table.  “Yeah, right,” she muttered. </p><p>Tina giggled and I saw Rosa grin.  I guess I wasn’t fooling anybody.</p><p>I closed my menu with a loud snap and loudly proclaimed, “Well, I guess I’m ready then . . . let’s order.”</p><p>That must have gotten the waitress’s attention, because she came over almost immediately.</p><p>I heard one of the guys saying, “Hey, we’re ready too.  And we’re really hungry.”</p><p>I looked over at them and in my loud voice (Lindsey would say I didn’t have any other voice) said, “Don’t you boys know anything . . . it’s ladies first.”</p><p>The women at the table seemed to appreciate it.  I thought I heard some muttering from the other table questioning my qualifications as a ‘lady’, but I just ignored it.</p><p>The waitress said she’d take drink orders first.  We all sat there, breathless . . . until Rosa ordered a glass of wine.  I’m surprised the guys didn’t send up a cheer.  Apparently alcohol wasn’t off limits (that was one of those grey areas at the company). </p><p>Rosa did glance over at the other table, give them a stern look and say, “Just one.  We do have to get back to work this afternoon.”  I had a feeling that wasn’t necessarily in the plans for a few of the boys.</p><p>“Maybe you shouldn’t have one.  You’re sort of our designated driver, after all,” Lindsey said to me.  Tina giggled and Rosa grinned. </p><p>I knew Lindsey was just kidding me, but I still scowled at her. “If you’re afraid of my driving, you can always walk,” I told her but she just laughed.</p><p>“Is she always so moody?” Rosa asked, joining in the ‘let’s beat up on Lauren’ parade.</p><p>Lindsey laughed and said, “This is nothing.  Wait until she’s PMS-ing.”</p><p>They all had a good laugh and you know, it didn’t really bother me.  I just shook my head and said, “Tina, I’m happy to give you a ride back, but my cousin’s definitely walking.”</p><p>Rosa put her hand on my arm again.  She was still laughing when she said, “Oh don’t be so hard on her.  Family’s allowed to get away with things like that.  You should hear some of the things my sister says about me.”</p><p>For some reason I found I was very interested.  I turned to her.  “You’ve got a sister?  There’s another one out there like you?”</p><p>She just laughed and shook her head.  “Oh, I’ve got a sister, but she’s nothing like me.”</p><p>The next thing I knew I found myself chatting with Rosa about her family and where she grew up and about her sister who worked in some ‘alternative medicine’ clinic and who she swore took drug samples home to try out, “Just to see how they feel.”</p><p>“Really, that’s the only explanation I can think of for the way she acts sometimes.” </p><p>Rosa was very animated and amusing.  I couldn’t help laughing.</p><p>When our food arrived we argued over who got the biggest half of the burger (she definitely did) and who took more fries (again, her) . . . but it was all playful and fun.</p><p>She gobbled down all her fries almost as soon as they arrived – like they were some special treat.  Maybe for her, they were.  After that she kept trying to steal fries off my plate.  I actually had to resort to poking her with a fork to defend them. </p><p>She might have thought I was just playing, but I got her pretty good a couple of times with the fork.  Sometimes I don’t share well.  I wondered if she was up to date with her tetanus shots.</p><p>Lindsey, Tina and Connie seemed to be enjoying the entertainment we were providing, because they laughed right along with us throughout the meal.</p><p>I know I stress about this Rosa thing at other times, but it seems when I’m actually with her, I just relax and enjoy myself – and I found today I really was enjoying myself.  It was very weird.</p><p>Lunch went on for a couple of hours and included another speech from Rosa.  I heckled her the whole time, insisting she should get into politics because every time there was any kind of gathering, she couldn’t help herself and had to get up and talk.</p><p>She didn’t seemed bothered by my comment in the least.  “You’d vote for me, wouldn’t you?” she responded.</p><p>I found myself smiling up at her.  I just said, “Sure.  Is there something in it for me?”</p><p>This big smile spread across her face.  She stared straight at me and simply said, “I’m sure I could think of something.”</p><p>I found myself blushing again – I hadn't blushed this much since I was an awkward teenager.  Okay, my ‘awkward’ phase probably only lasted six months, but it was a traumatic time for me.</p><p>Finally things wrapped up.  “I’ll see all of you back at the office,” Rosa said as we were pulling on our coats.  She focused her eyes on the table of guys who didn’t seem to be moving any too quickly.</p><p>There was a bit of grumbling, but they all got going.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll see you all later,” she said to us, but her eyes seemed to be focused mainly on me.  She had such a big, beautiful smile, and I was having a hard time not smiling back at her. </p><p>When we were all in the car, I could feel Lindsey’s eyes on me.  I turned to see her flashing this big, goofy grinning my way.</p><p>I had a feeling I knew what was behind it, but I asked, “What?”  My voice was maybe a little testy.</p><p>“You two are just so cute together,” Tina piped up from the back seat, catching both Lindsey and me by surprise.</p><p>When we turned to her, she seemed almost embarrassed – like she was as surprised as we were that the words had come out of her mouth.</p><p>“You really are,” Lindsey said, probably to take all the attention off of Tina.</p><p>I looked at her and just shrugged.  “Yeah, Rosa’s a lot of fun.”  I paused, fixed her with a hard look, and then added, “That’s all it is.  We’re just hanging out . . . having fun.  There’s nothing more to it.  Right?”</p><p>The grin didn’t leave Lindsey’s face.  I had the annoying feeling she wasn’t buying what I was selling.  And that bugged me. </p><p>Part of the reason it annoyed me, I’m sure, was because I wasn’t totally sure I was buying it either.  That nervous stomach and all my confusion was back . . . only probably ten times worse.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Monday.  I hated Mondays, but I think I hated this one a hundred times more than usual.  When I reached my cubical, I dropped down in my seat, closed my eyes, and let my head fall down onto my keyboard.  I was thinking maybe I could stay that way until the end of the day . . . or until I was officially declared dead and hauled out of here.</p><p>When I’d showed up at Lindsey’s place this morning, she’d taken one look at me and said, “Get out.  I’m driving.” </p><p>Was it because my eyes were mostly closed?  Who knows.  But it didn’t matter because I didn’t even have the energy to argue.</p><p>It had been a long, painful weekend for me – starting on Friday night when I’d gone directly home after work (unheard of, I know – Lindsey was speechless).  I opened a cheap bottle of wine (I wasn’t familiar with any other kind . . . at least if I was paying for it), and proceeded to spend the evening alone, getting drunk and contemplating what the heck was going on in my life.  Yeah, that whole situation with Rosa may have come up.  Okay, it was actually the central theme, of course.</p><p>It was well past 2:00 am when I finally flopped down face first on my bed and gently drifted off to sleep (or was that, passed out?  Whatever).</p><p>Funny thing . . . I was sure I had made so much progress dealing with my issues . . . but in the morning all of those brilliant insights had vanished from my brain and I wasn’t any further along than when I started.  I’d wasted a whole bottle of wine – and a couple million brain cells, I was sure – and I was no closer to figuring things out.</p><p>More than once I asked myself, “Why am I so stressed?  Just let things happen and see how it works out.”  I mean, that’s pretty much how I’d lived most of my life.  And wasn’t that the advise I’d given Lindsey many times?</p><p>It seemed like the easy path and I was very tempted . . . but I was still so uncertain. </p><p>Who would have thought I’d be the one who’d struggle through something like this.  I was always so confident . . . so sure of myself and what I wanted.  Now here I was, reduced to a babbling idiot – or the equivalent of that.</p><p>And as if all of this wasn’t enough . . . there was the office Christmas party on Saturday night as well.</p><p>I’d actually considered not going – totally crazy for a social butterfly like me – but Lindsey had insisted.  Her and Tina had come by my place to get me and make sure I did attend. </p><p>Lindsey mentioned she was getting a little concerned about me.  Wasn’t that predictable – she was finally getting her life in order and I was suddenly going off the rails.</p><p>So I went with them to the party.  I maybe had a drink or two before they got to my place . . . but I’m sure they didn’t notice.</p><p>I remembered arriving at the hall and chatting with people . . . maybe a little loudly.  I was feeling jolly and filled with Christmas cheer – or something.  I remembered seeing Rosa arrive.  I didn’t talk with her, but that reminded me that I needed another drink. </p><p>Rosa seemed to be trying to manoeuvre her way over to me, but I always found I had another group I needed to visit. </p><p>Then came the meal . . . and they brought out the wine.  I happily helped myself . . . even when Lindsey suggested that maybe I’d had enough.  What did she know?  She was too busy hanging out with her new girlfriend (I wasn’t drunk enough to say that out loud, though – like I said, I’m very good at keeping secrets when they’re important).</p><p>After we’d emptied all the bottles of wine at our table, and the couple of bottles I’d ‘borrowed’ from other tables, the music started up.  That was perfect because I felt like dancing.  I remembered dancing with a couple of guys from down in the warehouse.  They were plenty eager to head out on the dance floor with me, even in my state (or possibly, because of my state). </p><p>After that, things got little blurry . . . and then I recalled being in my bed, only it was more like a ride at the amusement park because it was spinning and my stomach didn’t feel so good.  I had to rush to the bathroom a couple of times to atone for my sins of the evening.</p><p>The first time I was there, kneeling on the floor with my head resting where my butt should be, feeling awful, I was surprised to see a bleary-eyed Lindsey come walking in.  At first I thought it was just a dream, but then I realized she had actually stayed over – like I’d done for her how many times – to make sure I was okay.</p><p>She helped me back to bed and tucked me in . . . until the next time . . . when she was there again to take care of me.</p><p>Some time the next morning – I’m pretty sure it was still morning, technically – Lindsey came in to my room and gave me a big glass of water and a couple of Tylenol.  When I actually made it out of bed about two in the afternoon, she made me a piece of toast (dry, not even butter or jam) and got me some more water.</p><p>At one point she asked, “Did you want me to tell you about the party?”</p><p>By that I was certain she meant my ‘performance’ at the party.  I really wasn’t ready for that so I just shook my head – which only made it hurt worse – and gave her a weak and mournful, “No.”</p><p>She finally took off about four – she said Tina was coming over to her place and they were going to hang out. </p><p>I guess she’d decided I was going to pull through.  She offered to make me something else to eat or get me something to drink, but I just shook my head – slowly and carefully this time – and told her she should go.  I told her maybe I’d have some dry cereal or something – assuming I found enough ambition to get myself up and get it.</p><p>I turned on the TV and curled up on the couch under a nice, fuzzy blanket and barely moved from that position for the rest of the day.  I’d had hangovers before . . . but this was definitely the King Kong of hangovers.  It was huge, it was painful, and it had me convinced that I might actually die.</p><p>That was my Sunday.  I thought a good night’s sleep would be enough to put it behind me, but apparently not.  I was feeling just well enough Monday morning to get up and get ready for work (and face the music for my Christmas party performance), but certainly not quite fully human yet.</p><p>Now that I was at work, I was starting to question the wisdom of my decision.  I clearly wasn’t going to get anything accomplished today.  I guess I just hated people who skipped out on their job whenever any little thing came up.  I really wasn’t like that.</p><p>I was maybe almost drifting off when I heard a sympathetic voice quietly say, “Hey, how are you doing?”</p><p>It was Rosa.  In spite of my condition and everything else that was going on related to her, I kind of felt happy she was there.</p><p>“Wow, the two day hangover.  You don’t see that very often.”  She’d added a sense of awe to her sympathetic tone.</p><p>I slowly raised my head and looked up at her.  Her horrified reaction (maybe I imagined that) just confirmed that I looked about the same as I felt.</p><p>I managed to give her a weak smile.  “Yeah . . . I’m never drinking again, by the way.”  I was being totally sincere – I’m sure. </p><p>“So this is all still from the Christmas party?” she asked.  She was sounding even more in awe of me.</p><p>I felt a little sheepish about it, but I gave her a little nod.</p><p>She seemed to absorb it for a couple of seconds, and then she gave me a big smile.  “Well, you were having a good time, that’s for sure.”</p><p>I closed my eyes and slowly shook my head.  “I don’t even want to know,” I told her.  I was sure I wasn’t up to hearing about it yet.</p><p>“You were fine,” Rosa said in a reassuring tone.  “You were just partying . . . you didn’t do anything bad.”</p><p>I opened my eyes again and glanced up at her.  I’m sure my healthy skepticism was clearly visible on my face.</p><p>She was still giving me that big smile – which calmed me a little.  I was sure if I had been too out of control, she wouldn’t have been quite so amused by it all.</p><p>“Sure, you danced and drank, and you were loud . . . ,” she said.  She laughed and gave her head a little shake.  “God, you can be loud.”</p><p>That really wasn’t news to me.</p><p>She got maybe a little more serious when she added, “. . . but it’s not like you were throwing yourself at married men, or starting fights, or acting inappropriate with the boss or anything.”</p><p>Her big smile slowly came back.  “You just had a good time . . . and I think you really loosened things up . . . and so everybody ended up having a great time.  I don’t know how many people told me it was the best Christmas party they’d been to.”</p><p>I was perhaps still a little skeptical that there weren't any ‘skeletons’ from the party that were going to pop up and embarrass me . . . but Rosa’s words certainly made me feel better.</p><p>It seemed like she gave me a second to process this, before asking, “So how much of the party do you remember?”</p><p>I closed my eyes and shook my head again.  When I turned my eyes back to her I gave her a little smile and said, “I remember getting there . . . and having dinner . . . and a bit of dancing . . ..” </p><p>She gave me almost a shy little smile.  “Do you remember dancing with me?” she asked. </p><p>I’m sure the shocked look on my face answered her question.</p><p>“You asked me to dance . . . when I was in that condition?”  My amazement was apparent.</p><p>Her smile got huge and her eyes shone with amusement.  “I didn’t ask you to dance . . . you asked me.” She clearly enjoyed filling me in on that piece of my Christmas party experience.</p><p>She added, almost a little shyly again, “And you asked me to dance more than once.”</p><p>I just sat there, with my mouth hanging open, looking stunned.  I didn’t remember it . . . but oddly I really didn’t feel the least bit upset – or confused, for that matter – by it.</p><p>I found myself grinning.  “So, did you enjoy it . . . the dance?” I asked . . . almost teasing her.</p><p>That shy smile was back.  It seemed so out of place on bold, confident Rosa . . . but it was definitely endearing.  In a quiet voice she said, “I guess if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have said yes to you the second time you asked . . . or the third time . . ..”</p><p>It was my turn to feel a little bashful.  We stayed quiet for a moment, just smiling at each other, both of us feeling quite happy I think.</p><p>After a few long seconds I noticed Rosa shifting a little, biting her lip and seeming somewhat nervous.  “Um, how long do you think it’ll take you to get through this hangover?” she asked.</p><p>I had a sense there was a purpose to the question . . . and I found I myself wondering what it was.</p><p>“I’m sure another good night’s sleep and I’ll be back to normal,” I told her.  I’d like to say I was confident – maybe you’d say I was more hopeful.</p><p>Rosa grinned at me.  “Such as it is,” she teased. </p><p>Maybe I should have given her that one – normal for me wasn’t necessarily ‘normal’ – but instead I gave her a little pretend scowl.  That just put a grin on her face, and in a few seconds I was grinning too.</p><p>She hesitated again.  I was sure there was something she wanted to ask me . . and I actually felt my curiosity growing.</p><p>Finally, all in a rush she said, “I got some tickets to the symphony for Wednesday from one of the consultants.  They’re doing Christmas music – which I really love– so I’m really looking forward to it.  I was just wondering . . . if you’re free, did you want to go with me?”</p><p>I was a bit shocked . . . maybe not even as much by the invitation as by how nervous Rosa looked.  Again, I thought how odd it seemed for her to be acting this way.</p><p>“I’m just asking you as a friend, no strings attached,” she continued, I guess to reassure me.  “I just . . ..”  She got a big smile again as she spoke.  “. . . I really have a lot of fun with you and so I . . . .”</p><p>Before she could say any more I gave her a casual, “Sure.”</p><p>She paused and looked at me, maybe a bit uncertain, unsure she’d heard me right.  Maybe she was just shocked I’d agreed so easily.</p><p>So I repeated, “Sure,” just so she had no doubts.  I found myself smiling up at her.  “I’ve never been to the symphony, but I love Christmas music too, and I bet all those carols would be fantastic with an orchestra.  So I’d love to go.”</p><p>She had a huge grin now, so just to set her straight I narrowed my eyes and gave her a serious look.  “But remember, little Miss Rosa . . . .”  I paused for effect.  “We’re just going as friends, so no funny business from you.”</p><p>I guess my hard-ass, serious face needed work, because she started to laugh.  I tried to keep a straight face . . . but I ended up laughing too.</p><p>She tried to be serious for a second too, saying, “Absolutely . . . just friends . . . no funny business.”  She almost made it, but on that last bit she started giggling and then we were both laughing again.</p><p>She quickly filled me in on all the details she knew about the event. </p><p>“Why don’t I just pick you up?” she suggested.  “We can go together.”</p><p>“Or I could just meet you there,” I responded, more I think to be difficult than because I had any problem with her giving me a ride.</p><p>“Parking always sucks around the auditorium,” she told me.  “and I’d let you drive but – no offense – I’ve seen your car.”</p><p>No offense was taken – other then maybe for the little smirk that accompanied the comment about my car.</p><p> </p><p>“So you two are going on a date,” Lindsey said as she worked on her yogurt. </p><p>It was lunchtime and I was starting to get my appetite back.  I had thoughts of a Nick’s cheddar bacon burger filling my head and firing up my taste buds . . . but the crunch of my celery stick brought me crashing back to my ugly reality.</p><p>Before I could respond to Lindsey, Tina added, “You two really do make a cute couple.”</p><p>I glanced from one to the other, doing little to hide my annoyance.  “It’s not a date,” I informed them.  I was maybe a little testy.  “We’re just going as friends.  I thought a Christmas concert sounded great . . . and the price was right.”</p><p>Lindsey sat there, sucking on her spoon, as if contemplating deeply.  After a second she turned to Tina.  “I’d say it’s a date,” she stated.</p><p>Tina nodded eagerly.  “Oh, yeah.  For sure.”</p><p>I just shook my head, rolled my eyes, and went back to my celery.  Oddly, in spite of my annoyance, I was finding that Lindsey and Tina weren’t really bothering me that much.  I was having a bit of trouble understanding exactly why that was. </p><p>But I knew that morning – even when Rosa was at my cube and asking me out (for the concert, which was definitely not a date) – I hadn’t really noticed that knot in my stomach or all the stress and confusion.</p><p>I guess I just assumed my brain had only just enough active cells to keep me upright and breathing . . . so it didn’t have the power to spare to worry about Rosa or anything else.</p><p>Or maybe that Saturday night drinking binge had killed all those brain cells that did the worrying.  I suppose that was just as likely.</p><p>Either way, I seemed to have made some progress, which made me feel good.  Now if I just had a cheddar bacon burger – and maybe twelve hours sleep – everything would be perfect.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Over the next couple of days I did notice that Rosa seemed to drop by my desk much more often than she’d ever done in the past . . . and she was getting so she didn’t even feel she needed to come up with a reason to visit.  I had the odd little stress attack, but I always found I just enjoyed chatting with her. </p><p>One revelation that had come out of all my ‘deep thinking’ over the weekend was that I actually quite liked Rosa – as a person – and that I really enjoyed hanging out with her.  She was smart and funny – and never phony or bitchy – and she always seemed to make me laugh.  So what was there not to like?</p><p>I even started taking my own advise – advise I’d given Lindsey a number of times, ironically, concerning Rosa – to not stress about things and just see what happens.  Wise advise (of course it was . . . consider the source).</p><p>On Wednesday, I could tell Rosa was getting excited about our planned ‘outing’ (not date!).  Honestly, I realized I was (eagerly) looking forward to it too. </p><p>I was a bit amused that any time Rosa talked about the concert, she spoke in a hushed tone, like it was a big secret.  I assumed she was doing that to ‘protect my reputation’ – such as it was (I’d heard many more tales now about my antics at the Christmas party – there was nothing horrible, like Rosa had said, but it maybe wasn’t quite all innocent fun like she’d let on).  I found that a bit amusing.</p><p>She came by one last time, just before I was heading home, to confirm my address and the time she’d be by to pick me up.  I thought she seemed almost giddy with excitement, which I found a little contagious. </p><p>I did have a small part of my brain wonder whether this was a sign that maybe she was thinking of this as more than an evening out with a friend (it must have been a few random brain cells that survived the Christmas party massacre), but I just mentally shrugged and thought, “No worries, just go with it and see what happens.”</p><p>I was liking my new approach to Rosa.  My ulcers were gone and I wasn’t having any issues sleeping at night now.  Of course I knew tonight could change things . . . but I wasn’t going to stress over it.  “Whatever happens, happens,” I thought.</p><p>Much as I’d expected, Rosa was right on time to pick me up.  I was waiting at the door of my apartment building, all ready to go.</p><p>I’d spent most of my time from when I got home getting ready.  That kind of surprised me . . . but I did decide I wanted to look good.  After all, this was a night out . . . and people dressed up for the symphony, didn’t they?  I didn’t want to look out of place. </p><p>Maybe that didn’t explain why I felt the need to shower and shave – everywhere.  Or why I spent so long on my hair – I decided to wear it up, with just a few strands pulled free to strategically dangle around my face.</p><p>I went back and forth on what to wear – not that I had a closet full of appropriate options to choose from.  I finally settled on a little black dress that I thought looked particularly good on me, with a lacy little shoulder wrap . . . you know, just in case it was cold.  I added stockings and some heels and then I was ready.</p><p>Of course when I climbed into Rosa’s vehicle I had on a long coat (it was the middle of December), so unfortunately she couldn’t compliment me on my ensemble. </p><p>I glanced around her almost new RAV4 and casually said, “Yeah, okay, this might be a step up from my car.”  The truth was, I probably would have killed someone for a nice vehicle like that.</p><p>Rosa laughed at my comment.  “I’d say it’s about ten steps up from your car, maybe.”</p><p>I just stuck my nose in the air and turned away from her, like her comment was completely beneath me.</p><p>She laughed again.  In a few seconds I looked back her way.  I couldn’t help smiling.</p><p>She was looking me over and said, “I like your hair up like that.  It really suits you.”  Her tone was a little hushed and intimate.</p><p>I gave her a firm look.  I guess she got the message, because she held up her hand and immediately said, “I’m just saying . . . I didn’t mean anything by it.  Really, no funny business.”</p><p>I had to laugh.  That expression was becoming like a little inside joke for us. </p><p>“Okay,” I finally said.  “As long as you understand, Miss Rosa . . . just friends.”  My tone, I’m sure, was far from serious.</p><p>She was sitting there, looking at me.  “Why do you always call me that . . . Miss Rosa?” she asked.</p><p>I just shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It just seems to suit you.  Does it bother you?”  I’d never gotten the sense it did, but I suddenly wanted to know.  I guess I cared if it actually annoyed her.</p><p>But she just gave her head a slow shake.  She had a smile on and even in the dim light of the vehicle I could see her eyes gleaming.  “No,” she finally said in that intimate, hushed tone again.  “No, it doesn’t bother me . . . I kind of like it.”</p><p>We sat there for a second, with neither of us speaking, just staring at each other.  Neither of us looked away . . . until a car drove by and seemed to interrupt the moment. </p><p>Rosa turned and said, “I guess I’d better get going,” in what sounded like an almost nervous voice.</p><p>I could feel my stomach again, only this time it wasn’t the uncomfortable knot . . . it was more like fluttering butterflies. </p><p>As we drove, we seemed to struggle starting up a conversation.  There was no denying there was some kind of tension between us.  Slowly, we both seemed to relax, though, and soon we were chatting and laughing, more like normal.</p><p>It took maybe twenty minutes to get to the concert hall.  I must say, I was enjoying being chauffeured around like this . . . and maybe I was willing to admit Rosa’s vehicle was several steps up from mine (easily ten . . . maybe even twenty . . . okay, probably a whole big long flight of stairs).</p><p>After we parked we had to walk a couple of blocks to get to the building.  I ended up having to grab on to Rosa’s arm most of the way.  I was finding that my heels were cute, but maybe not all that practical on the icy sidewalks (you’d think I hadn't lived here all my life).  In a way I felt like I was kind of teasing her, but she didn’t seem to mind.</p><p>When we got inside I let her go and gave her a little, “Thank you.”</p><p>She responded with a big smile and a, “No problem.”</p><p>Rosa led me over to a coat check and said, “We might as well get rid of these.”</p><p>She shrugged off her long coat and as she handed it to the lady behind the counter, I got my first look at what she was wearing.  I found I was very interested to see.</p><p>Rosa had on a pair of shimmering black pants, boots (considerably more practical this time of year, apparently) and a top that draped down from her shoulders and offered a generous view of her rather impressive cleavage.  </p><p>I was initially a little shocked.  It took me a moment to understand my reaction, but then I realized I’d never seen Rosa wearing anything so revealing.  Even though she definitely had something worth showing off, I guess around the office she was just too professional to wear anything low cut like that (unlike some of the other women there – who shall remain nameless).</p><p>There was no denying she looked quite attractive in her outfit – I noticed more than one head in the lobby turn to admire her. </p><p>I was a little uncertain how that made me feel.  Did she dress up just for me . . . or was she like me, and just wanted to look good for her night out at the symphony?</p><p>I heard the lady at the coat check ask, “Did you want to put both coats on one hanger?”</p><p>Rosa told her, “Sure,” and then turned to me, saying, “That way you can’t sneak out on me if you don’t like it.”</p><p>When she’d turned to me I’m sure she noticed how I was looking over her outfit (really, it was just the outfit).  From her little smile, I’d say she was very pleased with her choice.</p><p>I didn’t look away or even blush.  I just said, “That’s a new look for you.  It’s very nice.”</p><p>She gave me this look like I’d just given her the biggest insult imaginable.  “Nice?” she said, quite incredulous.  “It’s just ‘nice’?”</p><p>She was being so over the top, I couldn’t help laughing.  “Okay, okay” I said, “I didn’t want to say anything and give you a swollen head . . . ,” and then muttered, “Maybe a little late for that . . . .”</p><p>That got me gasp and a playful little swat on my arm.</p><p>I continued on, grinning now.  “ . . . but I guess if I was honest, I’d have to say . . . .”  I paused and ran my eyes over her again.  “I’d have to say you look . . . quite stunning.”  I found myself turning serious when I spoke that last part.  Hey, it was obviously true, so why not?</p><p>I glanced around the room and could see Rosa was still drawing lots of eyes . . . so obviously I wasn’t the only one who thought so.</p><p>If her smile was any indication, she seemed very pleased with my comment (certainly happier than the ‘nice’ comment).</p><p>I maybe didn’t want her dwelling on it too long (I wasn’t sure if she was reading something into it . . . or if she should), so to sort of change the topic, I unbuttoned my coat, slipped it off, and handed it to the lady at the coat check. </p><p>When I turned back around, Rosa was taking her turn to look me over.  Her eyes seemed to linger for a few long seconds before they found their way back to mine.  </p><p>I knew the dress was pretty short.  It hugged my body quite nicely and really showed off my legs (I have quite nice legs, if I do say so myself).  I felt quite confident in it, but I was still curious to know what Rosa thought (don’t we all worry about other women’s opinions).</p><p>“Well,” she said, “you look quite . . . nice, as well.”  The big grin on her face told me she’d used that word on purpose.</p><p>I gave her a little scowl . . . that just seemed to make her laugh.</p><p>She quickly ran her eyes over me again and said, “You look gorgeous in that dress . . . like I needed to tell you that.”</p><p>Maybe she didn’t, but I still appreciated hearing it.  Surprisingly, it seemed her opinion mattered to me a little more than I would have expected.</p><p>We shared another one of those moments . . . just looking at each other, smiling, apparently enjoying each other’s company (like friends do . . .right?). </p><p>I guess I blinked first because I turned away and glanced around the lobby area.  I hadn't been in the concert hall before, so I was a little curious.</p><p>Of course the first thing I noticed was a number of people – okay, pretty much all men – casting furtive glances towards Rosa and myself (many of them were with other women, so they definitely had to be furtive).</p><p>We obviously weren't the only attractive women there, but I guess glancing our way got you two for one, so maybe that was what made us so popular (or more likely it was Rosa’s cleavage and my legs).</p><p>I also noticed, off to the side, that they had a little bar.  I turned to Rosa.  “Since you invited me, and since you drove, can I at least buy you a drink . . . maybe a glass of wine?”</p><p>Rosa raised an eyebrow.  “I thought you’d given up drinking?”  She was clearly teasing me.</p><p>I had an answer, thought.  “I was just getting you one,” I told her quickly, “but if you think it would be rude of me to force you to drink alone, well, then I guess I can join you . . . just to be polite.”</p><p>Rosa laughed.  She seemed quite amused by my rationalization.</p><p>I got us each a glass of white wine, and then Rosa led me to a quiet spot off to the side – tucked away between a couple of pillars – where we could talk and enjoy our drinks.  When we got there, Rosa held up her glass and said, “Thanks for the drink.”</p><p>“Thanks for the invitation,” I replied, and then we touched glasses. </p><p>I could see she was watching me over her glass as she took a sip.  Oddly, it didn’t seem to bother me in the least.</p><p>“So, you’re really into Christmas, are you?” I asked.  I got the distinct impression she very much was when she was trying to sell me on the concert.</p><p>Her face lit up.  “I love Christmas.  It’s my favorite time of the year.  As soon as Thanksgiving’s over, I start decorating and getting ready for it.  At my place, there’s decorations everywhere and on everything.  And when I’m done there, I go help my mom decorate her place”</p><p>She let out a little laugh.  “Who am I kidding . . . mom’s there, but I’m the one who does all the decorating.  Everyone else just stays out of my way.”</p><p>I found myself smiling at her, maybe a little surprised by her almost child-like excitement.  It was a side of her I’d never really seen before. </p><p>She continued on.  “So of course I have my tree up and decorated – I don’t think there’s room for even one more bulb on it – and decorations on my windows and lights on my balcony.”  She paused, gave me a really big smile, and added, “You really should see it.”</p><p>Without really a thought I said, “I’d like that.” </p><p>As soon as the words left my lips, I wondered if I’d misspoke.  Surprisingly, I very quickly decided . . . that I actually meant what I’d said.</p><p>Rosa was looking at me, I guess trying to understand the meaning behind my words as well.</p><p>I took a little sip from my wine, but then turned my eyes back to her and smiled.</p><p>She stared at me for a couple of seconds, but when I didn’t make any effort to look away, I guess she reached her conclusion.</p><p>She gave me this big, beautiful smile.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The concert was really amazing.  Having all my favorite Christmas tunes played by an orchestra made them sound so much richer and more vibrant.  On top of that, they brought in a choir for some of the songs.  They did an incredible “Little Drummer Boy”, which was one of my favorites.  I don’t know who the soloist from the choir was, but he did an amazing job.  It sort of gave me goose bumps hearing it done like that.</p><p>Rosa and I were both bopping along to the more upbeat tunes – I think to the amusement of some of the symphony regulars – and I even heard her singing along to a few of the songs (she had a really nice voice – there was a reason I didn’t join her, because my voice . . . not so nice).</p><p>I had been distracted at times – especially near the start of the concert – trying to figure out exactly what I was feeling.  I knew myself, and I knew I was putting out more than a ‘we’re just friends’ vibe.</p><p>So . . . was I actually looking for something else with Rosa . . . or was I just being a flirt (which is something that I know I tend to do sometimes)? </p><p>I found myself watching her more than once as she obviously delighted in the Christmas music.  She was so filled with exuberance . . . it was extremely contagious. </p><p>But as I watched her, I found myself having thoughts I’d never had before – well, at least not about another woman.  I found myself wondering if I could actually have something that was more than just a friendship with her.</p><p>Maybe all that thinking I’d done about Lindsey – and what I was sure was her own attraction to women – made it easier for me.  Because as I watched Rosa, I realized that I wasn’t just leading her on . . . I really did want to get to know her better . . . and I wasn’t ruling out us becoming something more than just friends. </p><p>My mind sort of stopped at that point – I wasn’t up to clearly defining what ‘more than just friends’ actually looked like.  I just knew I was intrigued by her, and willing to head down that path to see where it led.</p><p>Just as I’d reached that conclusion, Rosa had turned to me.  She was grinning, just loving a lively version of “Jingle Bells”.</p><p>I guess maybe she caught the serious look on my face, because she seemed to lose her smile for a second. </p><p>I had no idea what she might have thought was on my mind, but since I’d – sort of – figured things out, I was instantly feeling pretty good.  I grinned at her, grabbed her hand, and started bopping enthusiastically to the music.  I even shouted out a few “hey’s” and “ho ho ho’s” (as appropriate for the song – Rosa did too).  I’m sure the choir appreciated our accompaniment.</p><p>I wondered if Rosa knew I’d made some kind of decision, because for the remainder of the concert, we seemed be sitting just a little closer to each other, and her hand seemed to find its way to my arm on a regular basis.  Maybe she also noticed I didn’t once scold her about, “no funny business.”</p><p>I don’t know what my expectations were for the concert – I guess I was more focused on the other aspects of our ‘night out’ – but I couldn’t help gushing about it as we left the hall.</p><p>I got about two steps outside before I almost fell on my bottom.  I grabbed onto Rosa, grinned at her, and asked, “Do you mind?”</p><p>She smiled back and said, “Of course not.”</p><p>I wrapped my arms around hers and pretty much snuggled right up against her as we walked.  It was pretty intimate, but she wasn’t complaining. </p><p>When we got back to her vehicle, she even opened the door for me and held my hand as I got in, I’m sure just to make sure I didn’t wipe out and kill myself.  That kind of thing can really ruin an otherwise wonderful evening.</p><p>As we drove, we didn’t talk all that much, but I didn’t take my eyes off of her.  She glanced over a number of times and ‘caught’ me staring at her.  I made no effort to look away, and she certainly didn’t seem to mind my attention.</p><p>When we got to my place I actually considered inviting her in.  Of course then I thought about the stack of dirty dishes in the kitchen (really, I was going to get to them), the half folded laundry basket in the living room (I’d just done laundry – part of the reason I hadn't gotten to the dishes – and I liked to fold it in front of the TV) and the assortment of things I had hanging to dry in my bathroom (again, from the laundry – I’m really not that big of a slob, generally). </p><p>What’s that saying . . . you only get one chance to make a first impression.  I decided this maybe wasn’t the first impression I wanted to make.  And besides, it was getting a little late and I did have to work tomorrow (and I was maybe still not fully recovered from my big party weekend – I really was getting old!).</p><p>I started to say my “good night,” and to tell Rosa what a wonderful time I had, but she interrupted me and said, “Maybe I should walk you to the door.”</p><p>I looked at her for a second.  She was smiling and staring at me quite intently, waiting for my answer. </p><p>If I said, “Yes,” did that mean I was inviting her in?  I thought I’d made my mind up about that . . . but I was starting to waver.</p><p>Finally I said, “Okay, but just to the door.”  She maybe looked a bit disappointed, so I added, a little sheepishly, “My place is a mess . . . and it really is getting a bit late.”  I think we both knew that if she came in, we’d be up much, much later.</p><p>An idea popped into my head.  “You did say I really should see your place . . . and all your Christmas decorations.”</p><p>That caught her attention.</p><p>“I happen to be free tomorrow . . . if you want.  You could show your place off . . . .”  I got a big grin as I added, “. . . and, you know, impress me by making me dinner.  I eat almost anything, so you don’t have to worry about that.” </p><p>Rosa seemed very pleased with the idea.  She didn’t even seem put off by my dinner suggestion.  That made me happy.</p><p>In a quieter voice I said, “That way, we’ll have lots of time to talk.”  “Or whatever,” I was thinking, but I didn’t say it.</p><p>Rosa’s eyes were glowing and she was beaming a huge smile at me.  “That sounds great,” she said as she rested her hand on mine and gave it a little squeeze.</p><p>We stayed that way for a few seconds – eyes locked, smiling at each other and her hand on mine – until I finally said, “I should probably go in.  I want to make sure I get a good sleep . . . so I’m well rested for tomorrow.”</p><p>She slowly nodded, gave my hand another squeeze, and then turned to get out of the vehicle, saying, “I’ll walk you to the door.  I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”</p><p>I waited until she came around the SUV and then let her open my door for me and take my hand as I stepped out (wasn’t I being the real girl).  I wrapped my arm around hers again and let her lead me up the sidewalk to the front step of the building.</p><p>We paused there, right outside the door.  We were standing very close, staring at each other again.  I wasn’t really sure what would happen next.  My heart was pounding and my mouth seemed dry.  It was strange for me . . . I don’t think I’d been this nervous since I was a teenager.  It felt a bit weird.</p><p>After a moment, Rosa finally let go of my arm.  “Okay . . . I’ll see you later . . . tomorrow, I guess.”  I thought she sounded as nervous as I felt.  That made me happy, because it reassured me that she was feeling about the same as I was.</p><p>I nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll see you at work . . . and then, later, I guess.”</p><p>The mention of the ‘later’ part put a big smile on Rosa’s face.  We shared another long look deep into each others’ eyes . . . until Rosa finally said, “I should get going.”</p><p>She paused again – I got the impression she was trying to decide what to do – but then she turned away from me to head back to her SUV.</p><p>I guess I’d suddenly decided I didn’t want her to go just yet, because I grabbed her arm and stopped her. </p><p>When she looked back at me I said, “I just wanted to tell you what an amazing time I had tonight.  Thank you so much.”</p><p>She smiled and nodded.</p><p>That’s when I stepped up close to her.  I put a finger on her chin, turned her face slightly away from me, and then leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.  My lips lingered there for just a second . . . and then I stepped back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“So you kissed her?” Lindsey said.  She could barely contain her excitement.</p><p>“On the cheek,” I replied.  It was about the third time I’d clarified that for her, but I was in a good enough mood that it didn’t even annoy me. </p><p>“Yeah, but you kissed her.”</p><p>There was no denying her point, so I just shrugged and nodded.</p><p>We were still outside Lindsey’s place.  She’d insisted I tell her everything about my ‘not-a-date’ with Rosa.  I’d sort of given her a high level summary of the evening . . . and had left that one little detail until the end.  Of course I did that on purpose, because I knew as soon as those words left my lips, there’d be no moving past them.</p><p>That’s not quite true . . . I had managed to mention that Rosa had ‘invited’ me over tonight for dinner at her place.  I didn’t see the need to mention that maybe I’d kind of invited myself over.  That was a minor point.</p><p>Lindsey made a happy little squealing sound before saying – again – “You kissed her!”  She carried on from there with, “That’s so exciting.  What were you thinking?  So does this mean that you and Rosa . . . are you two, you know, a thing?  Are you a couple?” </p><p>She was bouncing she was so excited.  You’d have sworn she’d shot down half a dozen espressos right before she’d climbed into the car.</p><p>I glanced down at my phone to check the time.  We were definitely going to be late.  It just goes to show how excited and distracted Lindsey was that she wasn’t freaking out about it (totally out of character).</p><p>So I took on the burden of being the responsible one – which was something a little foreign to me – and said, “We’ve got to get going.  We’re going to be late.”</p><p>She nodded absently as I put the car in gear and pulled out.  I guess at least with all of this going on I didn’t have to worry about her talking about her ‘project’.</p><p>Actually, since her and Tina had sort of become a thing, she didn’t really talk that much about it.  I guess she had more interesting things on her mind now.  Thank God.</p><p>I drove maybe a little aggressively, to make sure we got to work at a not totally unreasonable time.  Lindsey choked back a couple of screams along the way.  I saw she had that terrified, life-flashing-before-my-eyes look on her face – Lindsey can be so dramatic sometimes (I’m sure that was it). </p><p>Of course those two or three ‘near-death experiences’ made for only a brief pause in her barrage of questions about me and Rosa . . . many of which I really didn’t have a good answer for.</p><p>That became readily apparent . . . because a minute after I’d pulled out Lindsey asked, “So . . . what’s going to happen at Rosa’s tonight?”</p><p>That was a really good question.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood in the outer lobby area and punched 314 into the intercom system (Rosa had texted me her address and unit number earlier in the day).  I pushed the button and only had to wait a second before I heard Rosa’s voice say, “Hey there, come on up,” and the door buzzed open. </p><p>I hadn't even said a word.  For a second I thought maybe she was being a little lax with her security, but then I glanced up and noticed there was a camera on the lobby roof pointed directly at me.</p><p>I paused for a second.  I tried to remember if I’d been doing anything inappropriate or embarrassing before I’d pushed the buzzer. </p><p>You know, like picking something out of my teeth or adjusting my bra or panties or something (I know, they’re not exactly over-the-top ‘gross’ or major faux pas, but they’re the kind of thing you’d like to leave for later in a . . . friendship? . . . relationship?. . . whatever this was).  I couldn’t quite recall anything, but that was definitely no guarantee.</p><p>“Oh well,” I thought.  “Water under the bridge.  Nothing I can do about it now.”</p><p>As I headed across the lobby to the elevator, it occurred to me that Rosa had really responded quickly when I’d buzzed her.  I wondered if she was maybe eagerly awaiting my arrival (which only made me wonder more if she’d been watching and waiting for me).</p><p>When I stepped off the elevator on the third floor I looked left and then right.  I could see Rosa’s head poking out of a doorway about half way down the hall.  She had a big grin on her face.</p><p>I noticed right away that she had her hair down.  She usually wore it up at the office – always the professional – but I decided immediately that I liked how full and thick it was, and the way it fell down over her shoulders.</p><p>She waved to make sure I saw her, and when I was about half way down the hallway, she stepped out to greet me. </p><p>That kind of froze me in my tracks.  There was the always (okay, mostly) serious, always professional Rosa in these red tights with bright Christmas tree ornaments all over them, and a white and red sweater with a big Santa and Rudolph on it (complete with a lit up red nose).  If we’d been having an ‘ugly Christmas sweater’ contest, this certainly would have been a strong contender.</p><p>I found myself grinning and shaking my head.  “Wow, you really went all out,” I said.  “Now I feel a little underdressed.”  I’m sure I was laughing with her, and not at her.</p><p>She still had this huge grin on her face.  “I told you I was into Christmas,” she said, as she did a little twirl to show off her outfit.</p><p>I had to laugh.  It was totally over the top . . . but on her it still looked cute.  And it was cute how excited she seemed to be.</p><p>She led me into her unit, took my jacket and hung it in the front closet.  In keeping with the theme of the night, I’d worn a red sweater with my jeans.  It had no Santa or Christmas ornaments on it, but I told her it was definitely a Christmas sweater.</p><p>Rosa looked it over and scoffed at it.  “I don’t think that counts as a Christmas sweater,” she muttered.</p><p>I just shrugged.  “Maybe,” I conceded, “But I think it’s cute.”</p><p>Rosa ran her eyes over me and I saw a crooked little smile appear.  She didn’t argue, for a change.</p><p>She took my arm and led me around the corner into her unit for the tour.  Just like her vehicle, her place was several steps up from my little apartment.  I looked around at it in amazement.  It was nice . . . but of course that wasn’t what had me in total awe. </p><p>When Rosa said she was into Christmas and Christmas decorating, I think maybe she undersold it.  She had a tree, of course, which had so many decorations on it I was afraid it might collapse from the weight.  But beyond that, I don’t think there was one flat surface or one open wall space that didn’t have a decoration of some sort on it. </p><p>There were lights around her windows, stocking over her fireplace (gas fireplace, unfortunately – I guess Santa wasn’t coming down that chimney), a whole elaborate manger scene on a bookshelf and a winter village scene – complete with fluffy snow – on another shelf.  Of course she had Christmas music playing quietly in the background.</p><p>I stood there, slowly turning, trying to take in everything in the room.  I’m sure my mouth was hanging open (catching flies, as my grandmother used to say).</p><p>I realized she was watching me carefully.  Maybe she was afraid I’d think she was like a crazy cat lady, only with Christmas decorations.  But at the end of it all I couldn’t help turning to her and grinning.</p><p>“This is amazing,” I told her – and I really meant it.  I’m sure she could hear the awe in my voice.  “How long did all this take you?”  I really did want to know.</p><p>Rosa just gave me a happy little smile and shrugged.  “You know . . . I didn’t do it all at once.  I did a little here and a little there, so it wasn’t too bad.”</p><p>I gave her a bit of a sideways look.  “I know you said you started after Thanksgiving, but admit it,” I said, “you started decorating before Halloween, didn’t you?”</p><p>She laughed, but didn’t deny it.</p><p>I had another thought.  “Or . . . did you just leave all of this up from last Christmas.  That’s it, isn’t it?  Tell the truth.  You kept your Christmas decorations up all year, didn’t you?”</p><p>I was just being goofy and I guess she could tell because she was laughing at me and shaking her head.  “I did not,” she protested between giggles.</p><p>I gave her a hard look.  “I’m not sure I believe you, Miss Rosa.  You don’t seem like the most trustworthy person.  You do work for HR, after all.”</p><p>When I said the ‘Miss Rosa’, it brought a big smile to her face.  I guess she really did like that.  As for the rest of my comment, it left her laughing and protesting.  “What’s wrong with HR?” she demanded.  “You know we’re always there to help.”  She didn’t even make it though that without laughing.</p><p>We were grinning at each other.  I guess we were both feeling pretty relaxed . . . which was nice.  I’d been more than a little concerned that tonight – especially initially – might be a little tense or awkward or something.  There was no sign of that, though.</p><p>After a second I stuck my nose in the air and sniffed two or three times.  I narrowed my eyes and looked over at Rosa.  “I don’t smell anything yummy cooking,” I said.  It might have come out like an accusation.</p><p>Rosa just smiled at me.  “I thought I’d keep it simple, tonight.  You know, so we’d have lots of time to talk.”  She nodded over towards a little dining area where I saw she had a table all set.  “I’ve actually already got you supper ready for you . . . just in case you’re hungry.”</p><p>I took a couple of steps closer to the table.  I saw one of the plates was still empty . . . but on the other plate there were three stalks of celery, with some of the foliage from the celery added as garnish to enhance the presentation (as they say on those cooking shows that Lindsey – and my mother – love to watch).</p><p>I took a second . . . and then turned to face her.  I wasn’t grinning now.  I think I’d moved past a frown and right onto a full out scowl.</p><p>Rosa seemed to be pretending she didn’t notice.  Instead she was saying, “I figured that would be perfect for you.  I know how much you love your celery.  And since I didn’t want to waste a bunch of time making something for one, I was just going to reheat some leftovers I had in the fridge from the other night. </p><p>“I had the best fettuccini alfredo from this restaurant – it’s called Spiro’s – but the serving size was sooo big.  I still had enough left over for another meal.  So I thought I’d just heat it up.  I can hardly wait.  It was so good.”</p><p>My scowl deepened.  I knew Spiro’s . . . it was one of my favorite places.  And the fettuccini alfredo was one of my favorite dishes. </p><p>My mood darkened even more.  Rosa thought she was going to feed me celery while she ate Spiro’s right in front of me?  My lips curled into a snarl and I started eyeing her maliciously.</p><p>She kept up her innocent face for a couple more seconds . . . and then she burst out laughing.  She was laughing so hard she could barely get out the words, “Oh my God . . . you should see your face.”</p><p>She actually doubled over she was laughing so hard.  She had tears running down her cheeks and she looked like she was having trouble catching her breath.</p><p>I thought HR people were supposed to be caring and empathetic?  Sure, it was fine for me to make fun of people and laugh in their face . . . I didn’t know any better (and didn’t care to learn).  What kind of an HR leader was Rosa showing herself to be?</p><p>I just glared at her.  Okay, maybe it was more a pretend glare . . . I was starting to get the impression that possibly this had all been a joke of some kind.  Ha ha . . . very funny . . . only, not!</p><p>As she gasped to catch her breath, I found myself thinking, “If you collapse, you’re on your own.  I’m heading to the fridge for that fettuccini.”  Not very charitable, I know . . . I just hate not being in on the joke.</p><p>Finally Rosa got herself under control.  She wiped the tears off her face and gave me a huge smile.  I would have been happier if her mascara had been smeared all over or something (then the joke would be on her, because I wouldn’t tell her), but no such luck.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, but that big grin of hers seemed to be saying, “Not at all sorry – I’m still laughing at you on the inside.” </p><p>I decided I’d be the bigger person and forgive her.  I was also starting to think about how I could get her back (okay, maybe I’m not all that clear on the concept of ‘forgiveness’ . . .  but I knew payback was going to be sweet!).</p><p>“Come on, sit down,” she said, directing me to the sofa in her living room.  “Did you want a glass of wine . . . or are you still not drinking.”  Of course that last comment came with a smirk. </p><p>I was starting to think Rosa was due for some payback on an epic scale.  I’d have to think on it.</p><p>In the meantime I nodded to the offer of wine, stating my, “I’d hate for you to have to drink alone,” line.</p><p>“A white wine?  Something sweet?” she asked.</p><p>I just grinned.  “That would be nice . . . something sweet . . . just like me.”</p><p>That got me a smile and a little eye roll before Rosa headed off into the kitchen. </p><p>I took the opportunity to look around the unit some more.  I was feeling happy to be here, to finally have a chance to talk with Rosa and maybe start to figure out exactly what this thing between us was . . . or what it might become.</p><p>After our big night out, I’d expected to see her first thing this morning at the office.  As I’d approached my cube, I’d realized just how much I was looking forward to it.  But apparently my late arrival messed things up.  I found a sticky note in the center of my computer screen that said, “Hi,” in big letters, and then in smaller letters “Guess I missed you.  Later.”</p><p>I checked my phone and found I had a text from Rosa that said she had a meeting first thing and she’d try to catch up with me later.</p><p>It was disappointing . . . but at least she’d tried to see me.  It wasn’t like she was avoiding me, which I guess was good. </p><p>It wasn’t until almost eleven that Rosa finally appeared.  She looked a little frustrated and maybe a bit uncertain . . . but as soon as she saw the big smile that came to my face when I spotted her, she seemed to relax.</p><p>We were both maybe a bit bashful at first, but it seemed we were both happy to finally catch up.  Unfortunately Rosa only had about ten minutes, and then she was heading to another meeting. </p><p>She sighed and shook her head – clearly annoyed – as she told me, “I forgot . . . Greg (her boss) arranged an offsite for this afternoon.  I have no idea how long it’ll run.”</p><p>I think I looked a little miserable when I asked, “Does that mean no dinner for me tonight?”  It was all about the food, after all.</p><p>Rosa shook her head emphatically and said, “No, this shouldn’t run past 5:00.  I just don’t know if I’ll be back in the office before the end of the day.  But either way, I still want you to come over . . . if you still want to.”  For that last part she was looking a little nervous and uncertain.</p><p>I think you could say I was enthusiastic when I confirmed for Rosa that I was still looking forward to ‘dinner’ . . . which brought the smile back to her face.</p><p>She glanced down at her phone and then said, “Okay, gotta run.  I’ll see you later, though.  Right?”</p><p>I smiled and nodded, and then watched as she rushed off. </p><p>We’d really had no time to talk all day . . . so I had been looking forward to finally having a chance this evening.  I was a bit nervous about it . . . but if I was honest with myself, I was kind of excited too.</p><p>After a couple of minutes Rosa returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine.</p><p>She’d just handed me mine and started to chat when I heard her door buzzer sound.  She set her glass down on the coffee table and said, “Let me go check that out.  I’ll be right back.”</p><p>While she headed off to deal with the door, I sipped my wine (mmm, very good . . . I found it hard to imagine how I’d ever considered giving it up).  I glanced around, checking out Rosa’s ‘totally over the top Christmas-land extravaganza’ again.  It seemed everywhere I looked, I spotted something I hadn't noticed before.</p><p>I got up and wandered around, looking things over more closely.  I found myself singing along to one of the Christmas tunes (let it snow, let it snow, let it snow).  It reminded me of the concert the night before, and that made me feel quite upbeat.</p><p>I was vaguely aware of Rosa talking to someone at the door, but didn’t pay too much attention.  After a couple of minutes I heard the door close.</p><p>I turned, expecting Rosa to rejoin me any second.  Just before she rounded the corner from the front entryway, something caught my attention.  I suddenly had my nose in the air and was sniffing.  I’m sure I looked like the dog Lindsey’s family used to have, trying to home in on a new scent that had just reached me.</p><p>My brain lit up and my mouth started to water at about the same time as Rosa came into sight, carrying a large pizza box with the name ‘Spiro’s’ printed across the top.  She was grinning at me as she said, “Dinner is served.  I hope you don’t mind . . . I just got Spiro’s . . . it’s their house special, with no olives.  I hope that sounds okay?”</p><p>Rosa was clearly fishing for a big hug and maybe even another kiss, because the one thing I liked better than Spiro’s fettuccini alfredo was it’s pizza (God, how long had it been since I’d had a piece).  And the house special (hold the olives) was my absolute favorite.</p><p>I rushed over to the table where Rosa had set the pizza – probably drooling, but I didn’t care.</p><p>She opened the box and the room completely filled with that wonderful pizza aroma.  I considered shoving Rosa out of the way to get to it – it took all my willpower to resist the urge.</p><p>I grabbed the empty plate – ignoring the one with the celery on it – and held it out.  “Guests get served first, right?”  I knew that would just be the polite thing for Rosa to do.  I was trying my best to be helpful.</p><p>She glanced from me to the plate on the table with the celery and then back to me.  She didn’t say anything, as she served me up a slice of pizza, but she was maybe giving me a look that was saying, “Here’s a side of you I haven’t seen before . . . and it’s not all that pretty.”</p><p>That was true, but I decided I could live with it.  I was really hungry for pizza.</p><p>“Mmm, it’s been so long since I had pizza,” I sighed as I stared longingly at the thick slice Rosa had deposited on my plate.  I was definitely salivating now. </p><p>“We could just eat it in the living room . . . that would be comfy,” I suggested.  I’m always full of good ideas.</p><p>Again Rosa didn’t say anything, but she was giving me a look and was biting her lip like she was resisting the urge to speak. </p><p>I can read body language (sometimes I choose not to, but I can), and I was getting a pretty clear signal, so I added, “Or we could just sit here at the table and eat.  That would be good too.”</p><p>“Okay, sure, that sounds nice,” Rosa answered immediately.  She gave me a little smile – I think she knew I’d gotten the hint.</p><p>I was unclear on whether she had a thing about any people eating in her living room . . . or if it was more the thought of me, in particular, with pizza on her very nice sofa.  Either way, I decided if that was her biggest quirk, I could handle it.</p><p>I mean, I totally understood.  I was a little picky about people using coasters for drinks on my coffee table.  It drove me crazy . . . but unfortunately I got plenty of opportunity to exercise that particular pet peeve because I had to remind Lindsey just about every time she came over. </p><p>I managed to muster the willpower to wait until after Rosa had served herself a slice of pizza before I picked mine up and took a big bite.</p><p>I closed my eyes, let out a satisfied little moan and said (mouth full and all), “Mmm, this is sooo good.”  Honestly, it was almost orgasmic (okay, maybe that’s overdoing it . . . but clearly I’d gone way too long without some Spiro’s).</p><p>I was well into my second big mouthful before I even looked up.  Rosa was sitting there just watching me, with this big smile on her face. </p><p>I nodded at her and said (mouth full again – I hope that wasn’t another ‘thing’ for her), “Really, really good.  Mmm . . . yummy.” </p><p>Rosa sort of laughed and gave her head a little shake.  Hopefully it was a ‘you’re very amusing’ shake and not an ‘oh God, what did I ever see in this woman’ one.  Maybe I was making all this confusion and uncertainty I was feeling completely moot.  I guess time would tell.</p><p>I watched her carefully . . . and felt almost relieved when she picked up her pizza and took a (smallish) bite. </p><p>Pizza is definitely made for eating with you hands, and I had some strong opinions about any person who’d use utensils to try to eat it.  Rosa was lucky, because she was about to get severely mocked if she hadn't just picked it up to eat.</p><p>After she’d finished her first bite, she smiled at me and said (no stuffed-full mouth, I noted), “Mmm, this really is good.”</p><p>I was already half way done my piece and she’d barely had a nibble off of hers, so I decided now might be the time to slow it down and try acting at least a bit civilized.</p><p>I glanced at the celery that Rosa had placed on a napkin on the table and I couldn’t help myself.  “I hate celery!”  I said it with such conviction that even I was surprised.</p><p>I looked up and found Rosa looking back at me, maybe a little surprised.</p><p>“Okay, maybe I don’t hate it, but I’m really, really sick of it,” I said.</p><p>“Why are you always eating it, then?” Rosa asked . . . quite logically.  It was a bit annoying.</p><p>Maybe she softened up my annoyance by adding, “It’s not like you need it.  In case you’ve never looked in a mirror, you look amazing.”</p><p>Who doesn’t love a compliment like that?  Especially from someone who looked like her.  I found myself blushing a little bit, but I was smiling at Rosa and she was smiling right back, making no effort to break eye contact.</p><p>I took a sip of my wine while she had another small bite of pizza.  The whole time we kept our eyes on each other.</p><p>Finally she said, “If you think you really need to do something, you could come do some classes with me.”</p><p>Without even thinking I laughed.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.  “I’ve heard about the classes you do.  That would kill me.  That would be worse than the Christmas party.  I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for a week.  So I don’t think so.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t listen to everything Connie says,” she replied.  From her tone, I got the distinct impression Connie’s gossiping was a major annoyance for Rosa. </p><p>“Some of my classes are hard . . ..”  She grinned.  “I’m missing Boot Camp tonight . . . (just to be here with you – she didn’t say it, but I could kind of see it in her eyes).  Now that one probably would kill a lot of people.  But most of them are just fun classes.”</p><p>I’m sure I still looked a bit skeptical.  I was afraid that the two of us possibly had a very different definition of the word ‘fun’?</p><p>“You like to dance, don’t you?”</p><p>It seemed like a loaded question, so I cautiously replied, “Yes.”</p><p>“I go to an aerobics class Mondays that’s pretty much all dance.  The instructor’s really great and she keeps it fun.  It’s like a night out at the club . . . only no drinks and no guys hitting on you . . . well, mostly.”</p><p>I was amused by her description of the class . . . and maybe just a little intrigued (but still skeptical . . . Rosa was an HR person, after all, and as a general rule, they can’t be trusted).</p><p>“You could come with me next Monday, if you want . . . just to see what it’s like.”  She paused.  She was looking at me so hopefully.  “I really think you’d like it,” she added. </p><p>A big, excited grin suddenly appeared on her face.  “Actually, it’s last class before Christmas, so I think Anna – she’s our instructor – but I think she promised it would be all Christmas music.”  Rosa said it like that was something she was certain I couldn’t possibly resist.</p><p>I couldn’t believe I was saying this about an exercise class, but I responded, “Okay . . . maybe.”</p><p>I took another sip of wine while we eyed each other again.</p><p>Rosa gave me a twisted little smile.  “I can hardly wait to see you in tights and a little sports bra.”  There was a mischievous little gleam in her eyes.</p><p>“You can keep dreaming about that,” I shot back.  To start with, I didn’t own a sports bra . . . or a sports anything.  I guess I did have yoga pants, but they’d never been used for yoga or anything that might lead to me sweating.  That had just never been my thing.</p><p>The closest I’d come, back in my high school days, was as a cheerleader.  Lindsey was the athlete in our family.  Her and her brothers. </p><p>But I realized I was seriously considering Rosa’s offer.  It’s not like it would be bad for me . . . and I did like to dance.  Plus, if it meant no more celery . . . well, that made it extra attractive.</p><p>“Maybe,” I found myself saying again as I took another bite of pizza.</p><p>We continued to chat as we ate.  Spiro’s pizza is so thick with toppings that I was sure I couldn’t make it through more than two slices.  Rosa finished one slice (pathetic, I know), and then whined that she wanted, “Just a bit more,” . . . but she was sure she couldn’t eat another whole slice. </p><p>I sighed, and then reluctantly agreed to share some of my second slice with her.  Wasn’t I sweet . . . even if I maybe muttered a bit about it. </p><p>She only ended up having a couple small bites, though . . . and honestly, it’s not like I really needed all of it. </p><p>After that we were done.  We hadn’t even made it through half of the pizza.  Pretty sad, I guess, but I liked leftover pizza . . . especially if it were from Spiro’s.</p><p>Rosa topped up our wine and we moved back into the living room (after she made sure I wiped my fingers really well).</p><p>“You don’t mind if I turn down the lights?” she asked, and when I shook my head she actually turned off all of the overhead lights.  There was just the Christmas tree and all the other Christmas lights, but in her place, that was more than enough.</p><p>I sat on the sofa and tucked my feet underneath me.  Rosa sat on the sofa too, not too close, but definitely not at the far end either.</p><p>For a few seconds we sipped our wine and just smiled at each other. </p><p>The moment I’d been waiting for.  Why was I suddenly feeling so nervous?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood in the outer lobby area and punched 314 into the intercom system (Rosa had texted me her address and unit number earlier in the day).  I pushed the button and only had to wait a second before I heard Rosa’s voice say, “Hey there, come on up,” and the door buzzed open. </p><p>I hadn't even said a word.  For a second I thought maybe she was being a little lax with her security, but then I glanced up and noticed there was a camera on the lobby roof pointed directly at me.</p><p>I paused for a second.  I tried to remember if I’d been doing anything inappropriate or embarrassing before I’d pushed the buzzer. </p><p>You know, like picking something out of my teeth or adjusting my bra or panties or something (I know, they’re not exactly over-the-top ‘gross’ or major faux pas, but they’re the kind of thing you’d like to leave for later in a . . . friendship? . . . relationship?. . . whatever this was).  I couldn’t quite recall anything, but that was definitely no guarantee.</p><p>“Oh well,” I thought.  “Water under the bridge.  Nothing I can do about it now.”</p><p>As I headed across the lobby to the elevator, it occurred to me that Rosa had really responded quickly when I’d buzzed her.  I wondered if she was maybe eagerly awaiting my arrival (which only made me wonder more if she’d been watching and waiting for me).</p><p>When I stepped off the elevator on the third floor I looked left and then right.  I could see Rosa’s head poking out of a doorway about half way down the hall.  She had a big grin on her face.</p><p>I noticed right away that she had her hair down.  She usually wore it up at the office – always the professional – but I decided immediately that I liked how full and thick it was, and the way it fell down over her shoulders.</p><p>She waved to make sure I saw her, and when I was about half way down the hallway, she stepped out to greet me. </p><p>That kind of froze me in my tracks.  There was the always (okay, mostly) serious, always professional Rosa in these red tights with bright Christmas tree ornaments all over them, and a white and red sweater with a big Santa and Rudolph on it (complete with a lit up red nose).  If we’d been having an ‘ugly Christmas sweater’ contest, this certainly would have been a strong contender.</p><p>I found myself grinning and shaking my head.  “Wow, you really went all out,” I said.  “Now I feel a little underdressed.”  I’m sure I was laughing with her, and not at her.</p><p>She still had this huge grin on her face.  “I told you I was into Christmas,” she said, as she did a little twirl to show off her outfit.</p><p>I had to laugh.  It was totally over the top . . . but on her it still looked cute.  And it was cute how excited she seemed to be.</p><p>She led me into her unit, took my jacket and hung it in the front closet.  In keeping with the theme of the night, I’d worn a red sweater with my jeans.  It had no Santa or Christmas ornaments on it, but I told her it was definitely a Christmas sweater.</p><p>Rosa looked it over and scoffed at it.  “I don’t think that counts as a Christmas sweater,” she muttered.</p><p>I just shrugged.  “Maybe,” I conceded, “But I think it’s cute.”</p><p>Rosa ran her eyes over me and I saw a crooked little smile appear.  She didn’t argue, for a change.</p><p>She took my arm and led me around the corner into her unit for the tour.  Just like her vehicle, her place was several steps up from my little apartment.  I looked around at it in amazement.  It was nice . . . but of course that wasn’t what had me in total awe. </p><p>When Rosa said she was into Christmas and Christmas decorating, I think maybe she undersold it.  She had a tree, of course, which had so many decorations on it I was afraid it might collapse from the weight.  But beyond that, I don’t think there was one flat surface or one open wall space that didn’t have a decoration of some sort on it. </p><p>There were lights around her windows, stocking over her fireplace (gas fireplace, unfortunately – I guess Santa wasn’t coming down that chimney), a whole elaborate manger scene on a bookshelf and a winter village scene – complete with fluffy snow – on another shelf.  Of course she had Christmas music playing quietly in the background.</p><p>I stood there, slowly turning, trying to take in everything in the room.  I’m sure my mouth was hanging open (catching flies, as my grandmother used to say).</p><p>I realized she was watching me carefully.  Maybe she was afraid I’d think she was like a crazy cat lady, only with Christmas decorations.  But at the end of it all I couldn’t help turning to her and grinning.</p><p>“This is amazing,” I told her – and I really meant it.  I’m sure she could hear the awe in my voice.  “How long did all this take you?”  I really did want to know.</p><p>Rosa just gave me a happy little smile and shrugged.  “You know . . . I didn’t do it all at once.  I did a little here and a little there, so it wasn’t too bad.”</p><p>I gave her a bit of a sideways look.  “I know you said you started after Thanksgiving, but admit it,” I said, “you started decorating before Halloween, didn’t you?”</p><p>She laughed, but didn’t deny it.</p><p>I had another thought.  “Or . . . did you just leave all of this up from last Christmas.  That’s it, isn’t it?  Tell the truth.  You kept your Christmas decorations up all year, didn’t you?”</p><p>I was just being goofy and I guess she could tell because she was laughing at me and shaking her head.  “I did not,” she protested between giggles.</p><p>I gave her a hard look.  “I’m not sure I believe you, Miss Rosa.  You don’t seem like the most trustworthy person.  You do work for HR, after all.”</p><p>When I said the ‘Miss Rosa’, it brought a big smile to her face.  I guess she really did like that.  As for the rest of my comment, it left her laughing and protesting.  “What’s wrong with HR?” she demanded.  “You know we’re always there to help.”  She didn’t even make it though that without laughing.</p><p>We were grinning at each other.  I guess we were both feeling pretty relaxed . . . which was nice.  I’d been more than a little concerned that tonight – especially initially – might be a little tense or awkward or something.  There was no sign of that, though.</p><p>After a second I stuck my nose in the air and sniffed two or three times.  I narrowed my eyes and looked over at Rosa.  “I don’t smell anything yummy cooking,” I said.  It might have come out like an accusation.</p><p>Rosa just smiled at me.  “I thought I’d keep it simple, tonight.  You know, so we’d have lots of time to talk.”  She nodded over towards a little dining area where I saw she had a table all set.  “I’ve actually already got you supper ready for you . . . just in case you’re hungry.”</p><p>I took a couple of steps closer to the table.  I saw one of the plates was still empty . . . but on the other plate there were three stalks of celery, with some of the foliage from the celery added as garnish to enhance the presentation (as they say on those cooking shows that Lindsey – and my mother – love to watch).</p><p>I took a second . . . and then turned to face her.  I wasn’t grinning now.  I think I’d moved past a frown and right onto a full out scowl.</p><p>Rosa seemed to be pretending she didn’t notice.  Instead she was saying, “I figured that would be perfect for you.  I know how much you love your celery.  And since I didn’t want to waste a bunch of time making something for one, I was just going to reheat some leftovers I had in the fridge from the other night. </p><p>“I had the best fettuccini alfredo from this restaurant – it’s called Spiro’s – but the serving size was sooo big.  I still had enough left over for another meal.  So I thought I’d just heat it up.  I can hardly wait.  It was so good.”</p><p>My scowl deepened.  I knew Spiro’s . . . it was one of my favorite places.  And the fettuccini alfredo was one of my favorite dishes. </p><p>My mood darkened even more.  Rosa thought she was going to feed me celery while she ate Spiro’s right in front of me?  My lips curled into a snarl and I started eyeing her maliciously.</p><p>She kept up her innocent face for a couple more seconds . . . and then she burst out laughing.  She was laughing so hard she could barely get out the words, “Oh my God . . . you should see your face.”</p><p>She actually doubled over she was laughing so hard.  She had tears running down her cheeks and she looked like she was having trouble catching her breath.</p><p>I thought HR people were supposed to be caring and empathetic?  Sure, it was fine for me to make fun of people and laugh in their face . . . I didn’t know any better (and didn’t care to learn).  What kind of an HR leader was Rosa showing herself to be?</p><p>I just glared at her.  Okay, maybe it was more a pretend glare . . . I was starting to get the impression that possibly this had all been a joke of some kind.  Ha ha . . . very funny . . . only, not!</p><p>As she gasped to catch her breath, I found myself thinking, “If you collapse, you’re on your own.  I’m heading to the fridge for that fettuccini.”  Not very charitable, I know . . . I just hate not being in on the joke.</p><p>Finally Rosa got herself under control.  She wiped the tears off her face and gave me a huge smile.  I would have been happier if her mascara had been smeared all over or something (then the joke would be on her, because I wouldn’t tell her), but no such luck.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, but that big grin of hers seemed to be saying, “Not at all sorry – I’m still laughing at you on the inside.” </p><p>I decided I’d be the bigger person and forgive her.  I was also starting to think about how I could get her back (okay, maybe I’m not all that clear on the concept of ‘forgiveness’ . . .  but I knew payback was going to be sweet!).</p><p>“Come on, sit down,” she said, directing me to the sofa in her living room.  “Did you want a glass of wine . . . or are you still not drinking.”  Of course that last comment came with a smirk. </p><p>I was starting to think Rosa was due for some payback on an epic scale.  I’d have to think on it.</p><p>In the meantime I nodded to the offer of wine, stating my, “I’d hate for you to have to drink alone,” line.</p><p>“A white wine?  Something sweet?” she asked.</p><p>I just grinned.  “That would be nice . . . something sweet . . . just like me.”</p><p>That got me a smile and a little eye roll before Rosa headed off into the kitchen. </p><p>I took the opportunity to look around the unit some more.  I was feeling happy to be here, to finally have a chance to talk with Rosa and maybe start to figure out exactly what this thing between us was . . . or what it might become.</p><p>After our big night out, I’d expected to see her first thing this morning at the office.  As I’d approached my cube, I’d realized just how much I was looking forward to it.  But apparently my late arrival messed things up.  I found a sticky note in the center of my computer screen that said, “Hi,” in big letters, and then in smaller letters “Guess I missed you.  Later.”</p><p>I checked my phone and found I had a text from Rosa that said she had a meeting first thing and she’d try to catch up with me later.</p><p>It was disappointing . . . but at least she’d tried to see me.  It wasn’t like she was avoiding me, which I guess was good. </p><p>It wasn’t until almost eleven that Rosa finally appeared.  She looked a little frustrated and maybe a bit uncertain . . . but as soon as she saw the big smile that came to my face when I spotted her, she seemed to relax.</p><p>We were both maybe a bit bashful at first, but it seemed we were both happy to finally catch up.  Unfortunately Rosa only had about ten minutes, and then she was heading to another meeting. </p><p>She sighed and shook her head – clearly annoyed – as she told me, “I forgot . . . Greg (her boss) arranged an offsite for this afternoon.  I have no idea how long it’ll run.”</p><p>I think I looked a little miserable when I asked, “Does that mean no dinner for me tonight?”  It was all about the food, after all.</p><p>Rosa shook her head emphatically and said, “No, this shouldn’t run past 5:00.  I just don’t know if I’ll be back in the office before the end of the day.  But either way, I still want you to come over . . . if you still want to.”  For that last part she was looking a little nervous and uncertain.</p><p>I think you could say I was enthusiastic when I confirmed for Rosa that I was still looking forward to ‘dinner’ . . . which brought the smile back to her face.</p><p>She glanced down at her phone and then said, “Okay, gotta run.  I’ll see you later, though.  Right?”</p><p>I smiled and nodded, and then watched as she rushed off. </p><p>We’d really had no time to talk all day . . . so I had been looking forward to finally having a chance this evening.  I was a bit nervous about it . . . but if I was honest with myself, I was kind of excited too.</p><p>After a couple of minutes Rosa returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine.</p><p>She’d just handed me mine and started to chat when I heard her door buzzer sound.  She set her glass down on the coffee table and said, “Let me go check that out.  I’ll be right back.”</p><p>While she headed off to deal with the door, I sipped my wine (mmm, very good . . . I found it hard to imagine how I’d ever considered giving it up).  I glanced around, checking out Rosa’s ‘totally over the top Christmas-land extravaganza’ again.  It seemed everywhere I looked, I spotted something I hadn't noticed before.</p><p>I got up and wandered around, looking things over more closely.  I found myself singing along to one of the Christmas tunes (let it snow, let it snow, let it snow).  It reminded me of the concert the night before, and that made me feel quite upbeat.</p><p>I was vaguely aware of Rosa talking to someone at the door, but didn’t pay too much attention.  After a couple of minutes I heard the door close.</p><p>I turned, expecting Rosa to rejoin me any second.  Just before she rounded the corner from the front entryway, something caught my attention.  I suddenly had my nose in the air and was sniffing.  I’m sure I looked like the dog Lindsey’s family used to have, trying to home in on a new scent that had just reached me.</p><p>My brain lit up and my mouth started to water at about the same time as Rosa came into sight, carrying a large pizza box with the name ‘Spiro’s’ printed across the top.  She was grinning at me as she said, “Dinner is served.  I hope you don’t mind . . . I just got Spiro’s . . . it’s their house special, with no olives.  I hope that sounds okay?”</p><p>Rosa was clearly fishing for a big hug and maybe even another kiss, because the one thing I liked better than Spiro’s fettuccini alfredo was it’s pizza (God, how long had it been since I’d had a piece).  And the house special (hold the olives) was my absolute favorite.</p><p>I rushed over to the table where Rosa had set the pizza – probably drooling, but I didn’t care.</p><p>She opened the box and the room completely filled with that wonderful pizza aroma.  I considered shoving Rosa out of the way to get to it – it took all my willpower to resist the urge.</p><p>I grabbed the empty plate – ignoring the one with the celery on it – and held it out.  “Guests get served first, right?”  I knew that would just be the polite thing for Rosa to do.  I was trying my best to be helpful.</p><p>She glanced from me to the plate on the table with the celery and then back to me.  She didn’t say anything, as she served me up a slice of pizza, but she was maybe giving me a look that was saying, “Here’s a side of you I haven’t seen before . . . and it’s not all that pretty.”</p><p>That was true, but I decided I could live with it.  I was really hungry for pizza.</p><p>“Mmm, it’s been so long since I had pizza,” I sighed as I stared longingly at the thick slice Rosa had deposited on my plate.  I was definitely salivating now. </p><p>“We could just eat it in the living room . . . that would be comfy,” I suggested.  I’m always full of good ideas.</p><p>Again Rosa didn’t say anything, but she was giving me a look and was biting her lip like she was resisting the urge to speak. </p><p>I can read body language (sometimes I choose not to, but I can), and I was getting a pretty clear signal, so I added, “Or we could just sit here at the table and eat.  That would be good too.”</p><p>“Okay, sure, that sounds nice,” Rosa answered immediately.  She gave me a little smile – I think she knew I’d gotten the hint.</p><p>I was unclear on whether she had a thing about any people eating in her living room . . . or if it was more the thought of me, in particular, with pizza on her very nice sofa.  Either way, I decided if that was her biggest quirk, I could handle it.</p><p>I mean, I totally understood.  I was a little picky about people using coasters for drinks on my coffee table.  It drove me crazy . . . but unfortunately I got plenty of opportunity to exercise that particular pet peeve because I had to remind Lindsey just about every time she came over. </p><p>I managed to muster the willpower to wait until after Rosa had served herself a slice of pizza before I picked mine up and took a big bite.</p><p>I closed my eyes, let out a satisfied little moan and said (mouth full and all), “Mmm, this is sooo good.”  Honestly, it was almost orgasmic (okay, maybe that’s overdoing it . . . but clearly I’d gone way too long without some Spiro’s).</p><p>I was well into my second big mouthful before I even looked up.  Rosa was sitting there just watching me, with this big smile on her face. </p><p>I nodded at her and said (mouth full again – I hope that wasn’t another ‘thing’ for her), “Really, really good.  Mmm . . . yummy.” </p><p>Rosa sort of laughed and gave her head a little shake.  Hopefully it was a ‘you’re very amusing’ shake and not an ‘oh God, what did I ever see in this woman’ one.  Maybe I was making all this confusion and uncertainty I was feeling completely moot.  I guess time would tell.</p><p>I watched her carefully . . . and felt almost relieved when she picked up her pizza and took a (smallish) bite. </p><p>Pizza is definitely made for eating with you hands, and I had some strong opinions about any person who’d use utensils to try to eat it.  Rosa was lucky, because she was about to get severely mocked if she hadn't just picked it up to eat.</p><p>After she’d finished her first bite, she smiled at me and said (no stuffed-full mouth, I noted), “Mmm, this really is good.”</p><p>I was already half way done my piece and she’d barely had a nibble off of hers, so I decided now might be the time to slow it down and try acting at least a bit civilized.</p><p>I glanced at the celery that Rosa had placed on a napkin on the table and I couldn’t help myself.  “I hate celery!”  I said it with such conviction that even I was surprised.</p><p>I looked up and found Rosa looking back at me, maybe a little surprised.</p><p>“Okay, maybe I don’t hate it, but I’m really, really sick of it,” I said.</p><p>“Why are you always eating it, then?” Rosa asked . . . quite logically.  It was a bit annoying.</p><p>Maybe she softened up my annoyance by adding, “It’s not like you need it.  In case you’ve never looked in a mirror, you look amazing.”</p><p>Who doesn’t love a compliment like that?  Especially from someone who looked like her.  I found myself blushing a little bit, but I was smiling at Rosa and she was smiling right back, making no effort to break eye contact.</p><p>I took a sip of my wine while she had another small bite of pizza.  The whole time we kept our eyes on each other.</p><p>Finally she said, “If you think you really need to do something, you could come do some classes with me.”</p><p>Without even thinking I laughed.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.  “I’ve heard about the classes you do.  That would kill me.  That would be worse than the Christmas party.  I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for a week.  So I don’t think so.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t listen to everything Connie says,” she replied.  From her tone, I got the distinct impression Connie’s gossiping was a major annoyance for Rosa. </p><p>“Some of my classes are hard . . ..”  She grinned.  “I’m missing Boot Camp tonight . . . (just to be here with you – she didn’t say it, but I could kind of see it in her eyes).  Now that one probably would kill a lot of people.  But most of them are just fun classes.”</p><p>I’m sure I still looked a bit skeptical.  I was afraid that the two of us possibly had a very different definition of the word ‘fun’?</p><p>“You like to dance, don’t you?”</p><p>It seemed like a loaded question, so I cautiously replied, “Yes.”</p><p>“I go to an aerobics class Mondays that’s pretty much all dance.  The instructor’s really great and she keeps it fun.  It’s like a night out at the club . . . only no drinks and no guys hitting on you . . . well, mostly.”</p><p>I was amused by her description of the class . . . and maybe just a little intrigued (but still skeptical . . . Rosa was an HR person, after all, and as a general rule, they can’t be trusted).</p><p>“You could come with me next Monday, if you want . . . just to see what it’s like.”  She paused.  She was looking at me so hopefully.  “I really think you’d like it,” she added. </p><p>A big, excited grin suddenly appeared on her face.  “Actually, it’s last class before Christmas, so I think Anna – she’s our instructor – but I think she promised it would be all Christmas music.”  Rosa said it like that was something she was certain I couldn’t possibly resist.</p><p>I couldn’t believe I was saying this about an exercise class, but I responded, “Okay . . . maybe.”</p><p>I took another sip of wine while we eyed each other again.</p><p>Rosa gave me a twisted little smile.  “I can hardly wait to see you in tights and a little sports bra.”  There was a mischievous little gleam in her eyes.</p><p>“You can keep dreaming about that,” I shot back.  To start with, I didn’t own a sports bra . . . or a sports anything.  I guess I did have yoga pants, but they’d never been used for yoga or anything that might lead to me sweating.  That had just never been my thing.</p><p>The closest I’d come, back in my high school days, was as a cheerleader.  Lindsey was the athlete in our family.  Her and her brothers. </p><p>But I realized I was seriously considering Rosa’s offer.  It’s not like it would be bad for me . . . and I did like to dance.  Plus, if it meant no more celery . . . well, that made it extra attractive.</p><p>“Maybe,” I found myself saying again as I took another bite of pizza.</p><p>We continued to chat as we ate.  Spiro’s pizza is so thick with toppings that I was sure I couldn’t make it through more than two slices.  Rosa finished one slice (pathetic, I know), and then whined that she wanted, “Just a bit more,” . . . but she was sure she couldn’t eat another whole slice. </p><p>I sighed, and then reluctantly agreed to share some of my second slice with her.  Wasn’t I sweet . . . even if I maybe muttered a bit about it. </p><p>She only ended up having a couple small bites, though . . . and honestly, it’s not like I really needed all of it. </p><p>After that we were done.  We hadn’t even made it through half of the pizza.  Pretty sad, I guess, but I liked leftover pizza . . . especially if it were from Spiro’s.</p><p>Rosa topped up our wine and we moved back into the living room (after she made sure I wiped my fingers really well).</p><p>“You don’t mind if I turn down the lights?” she asked, and when I shook my head she actually turned off all of the overhead lights.  There was just the Christmas tree and all the other Christmas lights, but in her place, that was more than enough.</p><p>I sat on the sofa and tucked my feet underneath me.  Rosa sat on the sofa too, not too close, but definitely not at the far end either.</p><p>For a few seconds we sipped our wine and just smiled at each other. </p><p>The moment I’d been waiting for.  Why was I suddenly feeling so nervous?</p><p>When we came up for air, we were both breathing heavily. </p><p>Rosa looked at me with those big, dark eyes of hers and gave me an almost bashful smile.  “Well that was nice,” she managed to say in a voice that was noticeably more husky than normal.</p><p>“Mmm, yeah . . . nice,” I responded, all too aware of how short of breath I felt and how rapidly my heart was beating.  I glanced at her, but then immediately dropped my eyes.  Yes, shy little me was having a few issues still. </p><p>I wasn’t complaining.  I mean, we’d kissed . . . and not just once . . . and I wasn’t lying, it was nice.  Really nice.</p><p>Honestly, we did start out just talking.  I had every intention of only doing that.  There were a lot of things I had to say . . . things I didn’t feel sure about . . . things I was still struggling with . . . things that Rosa needed to understand.</p><p>So I tried my best to put my muddled thoughts into words. </p><p>And Rosa . . . she was so understanding.  I could see it in those big brown eyes of hers.  She listened and she reassured me.  She made it easy for me to get out all those difficult things I had to say.  And when I was getting too tense – or intense – she found a way to relax me or make me laugh . . . like she always did.  She was absolutely wonderful.</p><p>She put her hand on mine and gave it a little squeeze as she said, “I know this isn’t easy for you . . . but I’ll do whatever I can to help you . . . because I think you’re worth it.”</p><p>A girl’s got to love hearing something like that . . . even when it’s from another girl.</p><p>Rosa’s hand stayed there . . . on mine . . . as we continued talking.  It was distracting . . . but I didn’t mind. </p><p>We talked more.  She told me a bit about herself . . . about her journey.  I tried to focus, but now her hand wasn’t just resting on mine – as distracting as I found that – but she was lightly stroking the back of my hand with her fingertips.  It really wasn’t fair . . . but I didn’t complain.</p><p>Instead I found myself focusing on her face.  On those big brown eyes that were so expressive . . . so compassionate and understanding when I was trying to explain my confused feeling, and now so bright and joyful as she discussed her life today . . . including her budding feeling for me.</p><p>She gave a little laugh as she said, “I think when I knew . . . well, for sure . . . was when I saw you in your elf costume.  You looked so adorable . . . and you were so good with the kids.”</p><p>An impish little grin appeared on her face.  “That kind of surprised me.  I’d never pictured you with kids . . . but now . . . I can totally see it.”</p><p>As she finished speaking she reached out and brushed a stray hair back off my face.  It seemed strangely intimate . . . and just the light touch of her fingers made my skin tingle and my heart race just a little.</p><p>Rosa was talking again, and I was watching her closely.  I have to admit, up close like this . . . you could really see how fricking beautiful she was.  Those eyes, of course . . . so open and expressive . . . and her mouth . . . with those full, lovely lips that I found myself watching as she spoke . . . and that dazzling smile.</p><p>While I focused on her, I noticed that – like me – she had a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.  She’d already dealt with it a couple of times, but now it was back.  I felt a compulsion, so I leaned forward to brush it back for her.  She seemed to realize what I was doing, so she just smiled and tilted her head towards me.</p><p>I swear, I didn’t mean to . . . I was just there, so close to her.  I ran my fingers lightly over her face to move those offending strands of hair.  For whatever reason she closed her eyes when I touched her.  She looked so happy and contented . . . and beautiful sitting there like that. </p><p>An uncontrollable urge came over me – it just kind of snuck up on me out of nowhere.  I didn’t think – it wasn’t like I planned it or anything – I just did it . . . I kissed her.</p><p>I closed my eyes and slowly leaned forward . . . and brushed my lips over hers, just lightly. </p><p>That contact seemed to send a jolt of electricity through my body and left me feeling breathless.</p><p>I was completely shocked by what I’d done.  I started to sit back to give myself a moment to understand it . . . but I hesitated . . . and then instead I kissed her again.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’d just pulled up to the curb when I saw Lindsey come rushing out of her place.  She quickly jumped into the car, turned to me, and grinning all the way, asked, “So how did it go?  How was your date?”</p><p>I coolly glanced her way before saying, “Date?  It wasn’t a date.  We just had dinner together.  And besides . . . you know I don’t kiss and tell.”</p><p>I immediately decided that was a very poor choice of words.  I could feel my cheeks flush . . . and from the little squeal that came from Lindsey, I assumed she’d seen it too.</p><p>“Come on, spill it,” she demanded.  Her grin widened and she added, “You know you want to.”</p><p>I turned to her and in my most defiant voice said, “Why should I?  You never share with me.  I haven't heard anything about you and your new little friend.  How’s that going?  What’s happening with you and Tina?”</p><p>I gave my head a weary shake, sighed, and said, “I’ve always been there for you . . . through all your disastrous relationships.  And now that you’re off, venturing into totally new territory . . . well, you’d think you’d need someone (I gave her a little glare as if to say, “Someone who cares deeply for you and will always have your back”) . . . someone you could share all your questions, all your uncertainties with.  Someone you know you can trust . . . someone you look up to and who’s opinion you’ve come to respect above everyone else . . . .”</p><p>That last part got me a snorting little laugh from Lindsey.  Okay, maybe I was pouring it on a bit thick.</p><p>I just looked at her and said, “So?”</p><p>Lindsey eyed me, but then after a few seconds gave me a clearly reluctant, “Okay, fine.”</p><p>The next thing I saw on her face was a little frown and a look like she was possibly reconsidering.  Could it have been that triumphant smile I’d flashed when she’d finally agreed to spill?  Maybe.  So I tried to compose myself.</p><p>I thought I’d try again – no big smile this time.  “So what’s up with you and Tina?” I asked as sweetly as I could.</p><p>She still took a second, but then finally said, “Things are going good.”</p><p>I waited . . . patiently . . . but she didn’t seem like she intended to elaborate.  “Really?” I demanded.  I might have sounded just a tad indignant.</p><p>A hint of annoyance flashed across Lindsey’s face, but it seemed to pass quickly.  It was followed by a big sigh and then what I thought looked like acceptance.  She turned to me, gave me a little smile, and said, “Fine.  Tina and I . . . .”  I saw her eyes brighten and smile seemed to grow.  “. . . we’re . . . . we’re going out, I guess.  We’re a couple.”  The smile widen a bit more.  “She’s . . . she’s my girlfriend.”</p><p>By the time she said that last sentence her whole face was glowing and her smile was so big it reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.</p><p>“We’re keeping it quiet,” she continued.  “At least until Tina’s done at work, but . . . yeah . . . we’re definitely a thing.”</p><p>I felt so happy for her . . . and I was thrilled that she seemed so happy.  It had been a long time since I’d seen Lindsey in a relationship that I didn’t think had the makings of a major train wreck, right from the start (my opinion . . . though I’m not necessarily happy to mention I was proven right way too many times).</p><p>I was beaming now too.  “I’m so happy for you,” I told her, and she knew me well enough to know that I really meant it.</p><p>I took a second to give her my ‘deep in thought’ look before asking, “If you’re keeping it quiet, does that mean I should hold off on telling my mom about you and Tina?”  I did my best to make my question sound as innocent as possible, but I struggled to keep the smirk off my face.</p><p>And I got the reaction I was going for.  The words were barely out of my mouth when Lindsey responded with a very threatening, “Don’t you dare.  You don’t tell anybody.  When I’m ready for people to know . . . for my mother . . . and my brothers to know . . . then I’ll tell them.”</p><p>Lindsey’s mom and mine were cousins (and our dads were brothers – talk about a close knit family).  The two moms shared everything.</p><p>I’m sure she (kinda) knew I was ‘kidding’, but I guess she wasn’t taking any chances.  I just laughed, though and reassured her.  “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not going to tell anybody.  You know that.”</p><p>She looked at me for a few seconds, and then finally nodded and gave me a little smile.  “Yeah, I know . . . I’m just . . . .”  She gave me a frown.</p><p>I reached out and gave her hand a little squeeze.  “Hey, I know.  This is . . . different.  So take your time . . . figure out what you’re comfortable with.  You’ll know when it’s the right time.”</p><p>She gave me a little nod.  “Yeah,” was all she said, almost absently.  She was obviously deep in thought.  I was sure this was something she'd already spent some time thinking about.  I knew she was close to her parents . . . and her brothers . . . so I would have been shocked if she hadn't given it some thought.</p><p>She nodded again before saying, “Yeah, at some point,” I think more to herself than to me.</p><p>“See,” I noted cheerily, “this is the kind of thing you need me around to talk about.  You know I’m always full of good ideas.  Plus, I know the family, so that’s got to help.”</p><p>Lindsey gave me a genuine smile and gave my hand a squeeze.  “Thanks,” she said.  That sounded completely genuine too.</p><p>After a long second of us just smiling and enjoying our moment, she suddenly shifted gears, saying, “Okay, enough about me.  Now let’s talk about you and Rosa.  So how did that go?  You look kind of tired.  Was it a late night . . . or . . . .”  She got a huge grin and her eyes lit up.  “Or was it actually an early morning for you?  Did you stay the whole night?” </p><p>Her words gushed out as her excitement built.  I almost hated to crush it, but I felt I had to set the record straight.</p><p>“What kind of a woman do you think I am . . . sleeping over on the first date?”  I did my best to sound outraged . . . even if we both knew exactly what kind of a woman I was, and that when the mood took me, I didn’t even need a ‘first date’ to consider ‘sleeping over’.</p><p>“Actually, it was kind of the second date,” Lindsey offered while at the same time I corrected the whole notion by saying, “And it wasn’t a date . . . we were just two friends . . . getting together . . . and having dinner.”</p><p>From the grin on Lindsey’s face I could tell she wasn’t buying it.  Was I that transparent?  Oh yeah . . . there was all that blushing at the start of this conversation.</p><p>“Okay, I was there . . . maybe a little late I guess,” I conceded.  It had been almost two when I got home.</p><p>Which reminded me.  “And did maybe you and Rosa have a little chat about the menu for dinner?”  It came out more as an accusation than a question . . . which I was certain was completely appropriate.</p><p>Lindsey just laughed.  “Yeah, your ‘friend’ (she used the finger quotes) seemed very eager to do what she could to make the evening perfect for you.”</p><p>She was grinning when she added, “I told her that Spiro’s always got you in the mood . . . especially after this stupid ‘diet’ of yours.”  More finger quotes – it looked like it was becoming a real thing with her.</p><p>I had a hard time stifling a big smile.  Even though I kind of suspected it, I felt touched that Rosa had put so much effort into our evening . . . or at least the meal part.  Which was important . . . especially since she’d insisted I take the leftovers home with me.  Guess what I had for breakfast!</p><p>While I was feeling all warm and happy reminiscing, Lindsey was straining her patience.</p><p>“So, how was it?” she asked . . . again.</p><p>I’d always been one to happily share all the details of my adventures in dating.  I was often just as likely to provide Lindsey with more information than she wanted, rather than less . . . something she’d felt the need to point out on several occasions.  But suddenly I was feeling a little bashful – a truly new experience for me.</p><p>“Um . . . we . . . ah . . . we had pizza . . . from Spiro’s . . . ,” I started, tentatively. </p><p>Lindsey quite impatiently gave me a, “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . get to the good parts.”</p><p>“We talked a bit,” I continued while Lindsey watched me carefully.  I could see her anticipation growing, which I think only made me more nervous.</p><p>I stopped, closed my eyes, and gave myself a mental slap on the side of my head.  “What’s the big deal?” I thought.  “You did what you did . . . and you liked it (really liked it!) . . . and Lindsey, of all people, isn’t going to judge you for it.”</p><p>Hadn't I just been saying to her how it would be helpful to have someone to talk to when you’re ‘venturing into new territory’?  And who better for me to talk to than Lindsey? </p><p>Plus – to be honest – I did kind of want to talk about it (Lindsey would say I always wanted to talk about what I did between the sheets . . . and there might have been some truth to that).</p><p>So I took a deep breath, turned to Lindsey and said, “Yeah, after the talking . . . things got a little hot last night with Rosa.”</p><p>Lindsey got this huge grin on her face.  For once, she wanted to hear the details.</p><p>“Did you . . . ,” she started, but then I she guess couldn’t think of a delicate way to ask.</p><p>“We kissed . . . a bit,” I told her.  I was feeling a little bashful again, but I found I was smiling . . . like, a really big, happy smile.  “And, well, maybe a bit more,” I offered . . . or maybe I teased her with that.</p><p>“Did she kiss you?” she asked.  She was watching me intently.</p><p>I dropped my eyes, but I nodded.</p><p>“Did you kiss her back?”</p><p>I nodded again.  I found I couldn’t stop grinning as I remembered.</p><p>“On the lips?”  I guess she didn’t want to miss any of the details.</p><p>I glance up at her, gave her a ‘what do you think’ look, and then a couple of nods.</p><p>She took a second before she asked, “Did you kiss her first?”</p><p>I felt my cheeks fire up again.  I hesitated for a second, and the I gave a slow nod.</p><p>She giggled to herself and I thought I heard her whisper, “Again!  I knew it.”  That didn’t do anything for the lovely tinge of red that was filling my face.</p><p>“Did you make it to the bedroom?”</p><p>“Living room . . . on the sofa,” I responded.</p><p>“Clothes on or off?” </p><p>“On.”</p><p>“Any hands inside the clothes?”</p><p>“Just over top.”</p><p>“Below the waist?”</p><p>“Above.”</p><p>“And not just one kiss?”  It sounded like she knew the answer to that one.</p><p>“No.”  I blushed a little, but I was smiling too.  “No . . . lots.”</p><p>It felt like this was turning into a game of twenty questions – sex edition.  And apparently Lindsey was a pro at it.  I thought I should keep that in mind in case we had a family game night over Christmas.  I definitely wanted her on my team.</p><p>I found I was a little less bashful now that she had a pretty good picture of what I’d gotten up to with Rosa.  “Let’s just say she got to second base, and that’s as far as she went,” I said. </p><p>I thought for a second, and because it was Lindsey I told her honestly, “That’s as far as I was comfortable going . . . right now.”  Would that change later?  I really wasn’t sure.</p><p>I could feel Lindsey’s eyes on me.  After a second she asked, “And did you get to second base too?”</p><p>My eyes dropped and the burning cheeks were back.  What happened to the old Lindsey who didn’t want to hear all the gory details about my dates (yeah, okay, it was a date)?</p><p>Finally I gave my head a slow shake and offered a quiet, “No.”  I didn’t think I had to tell her that that was something else I hadn’t felt comfortable with . . . although Rosa had made a point of letting me know she was fine with it if I did want to . . . explore.</p><p>Lindsey didn’t say anything for a moment . . . she just watched me, I’m sure trying to gauge how I felt.  But no sense guessing, I suppose, so she asked, “And what did you think?”</p><p>I took a second, but then found myself smiling. I turned my eyes to her – because I felt comfortable be honest with Lindsey – and said, maybe a little bashfully again (this was just so out of character for me!), “I . . . enjoyed myself.”</p><p>I think my smile grew as the words left my lips.  I know I was definitely feeling quite happy and jolly inside – just in time for Christmas.</p><p>That made Lindsey smile.  I could tell she was happy for me.</p><p>“So, are you planning another . . . dinner . . . or anything?”</p><p>She was being so tactful it made me laugh.</p><p>“Are we planning another date?” I corrected her, which just made her grin.</p><p>I nodded.  “Yeah . . . we’re going to get together at her place tonight.”  I was feeling all shy again – my God, who was this person!!  ‘Shy’ and ‘bashful’ were just not words that anyone ever used to describe me.  Ever.</p><p>Almost as if Lindsey could read my mind, she squeezed my hand and said, “It takes a little getting used to . . . but I think Rosa’s really great.  You’re lucky, and I hope it all works out for you.”  After a second she added, “And remember, you can always talk to me . . . if you’re feeling . . . unsure . . . or confused . . . about anything.”</p><p>“Thanks,” I told her, and I really meant it.</p><p>Lindsey was quiet for a moment.  She’d turned and was staring out the front window.  In an almost distracted voice she said, “It’s strange, don’t you think.”  She glanced at me.  “Both of us . . . cousins . . . and both of us all of a sudden, we’ve got . . . .”</p><p>She didn’t finish it, but I understood what she was saying, so I finished it for her.  “Girlfriends?”</p><p>She bit her lip and nodded.</p><p>“It is a bit strange, I guess” I admitted, but quickly added, “I’m not complaining, though.”</p><p>She gave me a big, brilliant smiled at that.  “No, me neither.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was another wild race through the streets to get to work on time.  All of our talking had put us behind, so I had to be a little aggressive on the drive.  I’d been late enough times lately.</p><p>I knew Lindsey appreciated my efforts . . . even if she felt the need to scream out, “Oh my God!” at least a couple of times as I wove my way through traffic.</p><p>I’d tried to reassure her that I knew what I was doing, but I think me taking my eyes off the road to do that perhaps didn’t really help.</p><p>Anyway, we made it to work in one piece, and on time . . . ish.  I was very pleased with myself.  I heard Lindsey mumbling something about seeing if maybe Tina could give her a ride in the future.  I’m sure she was just kidding, though, and that deep down she was thanking me for my efforts.</p><p>When I got to my cube I found Rosa sitting in my chair, eyes closed, spinning back and forth with a contented smile on her face.</p><p>I amused myself by watching her for a second, and then cleared my throat to get her attention.</p><p>She opened those sparkling eyes of hers and her face lit up.  “Hey there,” she said, and it was hard to miss the joy in her voice.</p><p>She glanced down at her watch and gave me a pretend-stern look before saying, “Are you late?  That’s not good.  You know HR frowns on that.”  It took a second . . . but then the big smile returned as she added, “Good thing you’re tight with someone in HR.”</p><p>I found myself smiling . . . but I found I was also a little nervous.  Without even thinking, I glanced around to see if there was anybody near who could hear us.</p><p>I’m sure Rosa saw it . . . and it seemed to knock a hundred watts or so out of her smile.</p><p>She didn’t say a word.  She just looked at me and raised an eyebrow.</p><p>I didn’t need her to speak to know what she was asking.  What was my problem?</p><p>Well, that was a really good question.  Certainly the previous night I hadn't had any problems . . . especially by the end of the evening (well, other than the problem of convincing myself I really should leave).  And I’d had no problems talking about it with Lindsey.</p><p>But now . . . out here in the ‘real world’ . . . where I lived and worked and everybody knew me . . . I was suddenly feeling . . . nervous.  Or was it anxious?  Self conscious (that didn’t sound like me)?  Something . . . whatever the opposite of comfortable is (duh . . . how about ‘uncomfortable’ – yeah, my brain, it wasn’t working so good).</p><p>Rosa seemed surprised, but she wasn’t the only one.  I really hadn't seen this coming . . . I guess because I really hadn't given it any thought.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Rosa asked.  She seemed concerned . . . and thank God not at all annoyed.</p><p>“Yeah,” I responded immediately . . . but in a whisper.  “I’m just . . . I’m . . . .”  I paused.  I was drawing a total blank.  I gave my head a shake and said, “I have no idea what I am!”</p><p>Rosa looked at me . . . and then I saw her eyes soften.  “You’re maybe not ready for people to know . . . that there may be . . . something . . . between us.”</p><p>She whispered, but I found myself glancing around again.  My mouth was dry and my heart was beating fast . . . I know it sounds the same, but it was nothing like what I’d experienced at Rosa’s place.  That was a feeling of euphoria . . . and this was probably closer to . . . panic.  It seemed crazy.</p><p>Sweet, sweet Rosa gave me a patient smile.  “I said I was happy to take it slow . . . to be patient.  This is something new for you.  I get it.”</p><p>She gave me a grin before saying, “It’s been a long time since I dated a newbie.  I guess I got kind of use to this part being no big deal.”</p><p>She slowly reached up and lightly brushed her hand over mine.  I managed not to jump or gawk around too obviously . . . instead I just swivelled my eyes.  Very crafty, right?</p><p>“So I’ll be good at the office . . . or out in public . . . I guess you’ll have to let me know what you’re comfortable with.  Okay?”</p><p>She gave me a big smile and I tried my best to return it . . . although I’m pretty sure mine didn’t quite match hers.</p><p>“Well, I’d better run,” she said as she stood.  She was very close to me in my small cube, and she brushed her hand against mine again.</p><p>Now my heart was beating extra hard in my chest.  I think it was completely confused.  It couldn’t decide if it was excited or nervous.  Well, welcome to the club.</p><p>Rosa gave me a twisted smile.  She leaned close to me and whispered, “I think I want to kiss you.”</p><p>I gasped and my mouth fell open.  I’m sure my eyes almost bugged out of my head in total panic.</p><p>Sweet, caring, compassionate Rosa . . . she started laughing.  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she giggled as she turned and left.</p><p>She glanced back at me once, gave me a little finger wave, and then disappeared.</p><p>I fell into my seat.  My heart was still pounding wildly.  I wondered if I should call 911 because I was sure that last little stunt had given me a coronary.</p><p>I’d definitely have to get her for that.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, that’s boring,” Lindsey said as I pulled into the parking spot at the mall.</p><p>I shrugged.  I’d just told her about ‘Night at Rosa’s – the Sequel’.  Yes, our second night together . . . which ended up being similar to the first . . . not that I was complaining in any way.  I thought it was wonderful.</p><p>I’d skipped the usual after-work drinks and gone straight over to Rosa’s.  She made me dinner – well, I helped a little – and then we’d curled up on her sofa again.  We talked, a lot . . . and maybe did a few other things too.  It had been even harder this time to convince myself I shouldn’t stay the night . . . and Rosa had made no effort to help my cause.</p><p>I was becoming very comfortable with Rosa . . . well, at least when we were in private.  I didn’t share that little concern with Lindsey – well, not yet anyways.</p><p>I gave Lindsey a frown.  “You thought it was interesting when I told you about our first night,” I whinged (a cool Aussie word I’d heard from one of the guys in the warehouse).</p><p>She grinned.  “You mean your first date?”  There was no doubt from her tone she was trying to tease me.  She got a thoughtful look.  “Or I guess that was really your second date, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Nice try, but that whole ‘date’ thing wasn’t bothering me anymore.  Nope . . . because I’d moved on to bigger and better issues.</p><p>I turned and looked at Lindsey.  She was starting to get out of the car, but must have noticed how I was frozen in my seat.  She turned back to me.</p><p>“Um . . . you and Tina . . . have you . . . you know . . . have you told anybody about . . . you know . . . that you’re . . . dating?”  I wasn’t sure why I sounded so nervous. </p><p>I saw Lindsey’s eyes widen a bit and an angry look pass over her face.  “Why?  What did you do?” she demanded, and none too kindly.</p><p>I sat back and held up my hands.  “No, I didn’t do anything.”  I shook my head.  “That’s not why I’m asking.”</p><p>I couldn’t believe Lindsey could think I’d spill the beans and ‘out’ her . . . even accidentally.  I’m like Fort Knox.  Whatever’s locked inside, stays inside.  I assume that’s what happens at Fort Knox anyways.</p><p>“No, I’m just . . . .”  I was struggling to explain. </p><p>“Yesterday, when I got to the office and I saw Rosa . . . I was happy . . . until . . . I don’t know . . . suddenly it was like I got smacked right across the face – by reality, you know – and it was like . . . Oh My God . . . I’m dating Rosa – well, sort of . . . and everybody’s going to know.  And I panicked.  I wasn’t okay with it . . . you know, people knowing.  It kind of freaked me out.  Not that I care what other people think . . . usually . . . but . . .  I don’t know . . ..  Does this make any sense?”</p><p>Luckily my cousin was used to my babbling, so I think she got the gist of what I was trying to say.</p><p>She was biting her lip and nodding.  “Yeah, it’s big, right?”</p><p>She gave me a sympathetic look.  “I guess it’s harder for you, because everybody knows about Rosa.  So even if you were just friends and hanging out, people would still start to wonder.”</p><p>That was true.  I hadn't really thought of it that way, but I guess that was really part of the anxiety I’d felt at work.</p><p>“At least with me and Tina,” she continued.  “We work together, and everybody knows we’re friends, so it’s no big deal if we hang out and go for drinks or stuff.  People don’t assume there’s anything more.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure when Lindsey had gotten to be so wise.  I was typically the ‘wise’ one, I was sure.  I assume she got that way just from being around me so much.  How could she help but gain wisdom?  It was pretty much leaking out of all my pores.</p><p>I found myself smiling.  I gave a little laugh and said, “When everyone finds out about you and Tina, they’re going to be, like, ‘Duh, it was so obvious’.”</p><p>Lindsey looked at me.  Her expression seemed to flicker between a big smile – I think she loved thinking about her and Tina – and a nervous frown.  “Do you think it’s obvious?” she asked.  She sounded a little concerned.</p><p>I grinned at her.  “To me . . . yeah, for sure.  But I know you, so don’t worry.  I don’t think anyone else has a clue . . . so you two just enjoy yourselves and you can share it whenever you’re ready.”</p><p>Lindsey beamed at me . . . and then I got that sympathetic look again.  “You’re never going to get that chance with Rosa, are you?  I’m sorry.  That really sucks.”</p><p>All I could do was nod.  It did suck . . . and I really wasn’t sure exactly what to do about it.</p><p>I turned my eyes back to Lindsey.  “So . . . when are you going to tell your family?”  I knew she was close with her brothers . . . and her parents too.  I thought it probably bothered her, having this big, wonderful, happy secret that she hadn’t shared with them.</p><p>She gave me a little smile but shrugged.  “I don’t know . . . but probably soon.”</p><p>I saw her smile grow.  “Mom’s already been commenting on what a good mood I’ve been in lately.  Even Anthony and Marcus noticed . . . and remember, they didn’t even notice for a week that time I went red.” </p><p>Lindsey had dyed her hair red for a while.  She looked cute . . . but then she always does.</p><p>Lindsey chuckled and looked a little sheepish.  “Apparently I say a bit too much about Tina though.  On Thursday when I was talking to mom, she said, ‘Who is this wonderful friend of your . . .this Tina?  And why don’t you ever invite her over for dinner?  You know we like to meet your friends’.”</p><p>Lindsey could do such a perfect imitation of her mother that she had me laughing.  And I could so hear Aunt Izzy saying that, inviting Lindsey’s friends over like she was still in middle school.</p><p>We both smiled for a moment, enjoying the irony of her mom being so eager to meet Tina.</p><p>After a few seconds Lindsey got still and I could see her biting her lip.  Finally she said, “I’m thinking of seeing if Tina can come do Christmas dinner with us.”</p><p>That was huge.  I looked at her carefully.  I could see Lindsey was a little stressed about this . . . but I could also see she was excited by the prospects.</p><p>“Her parents are divorced,” she continued.  “Her mom . . . she sounds like a total flake to me.  Apparently she’s doing a Christmas cruise with some new boyfriend.  Her dad’s having a big family Christmas, but he’s remarried and Tina says she always feels a little awkward with his new family.  So she was planning to just spend Christmas in her apartment.  How sad is that?”</p><p>I guess sometimes Lindsey and I just take for granted how safe and stable our families are. </p><p>Enough deep thoughts for now, though.  I had another burning question.</p><p>“So what?  Are you planning on a Christmas surprise?  ‘Everybody, here’s my friend, Tina.  Oh, and btw . . . we’re dating.  Surprise . . . I’m a lesbian’.”</p><p>I didn’t say it harshly . . . more as a joke . . . but that “L” word at the end made Lindsey squirm just a little.  I was thinking she better get used to it, though.</p><p>And maybe she wasn’t the only one, because it had made me just a little uncomfortable too. </p><p>She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head.  She sighed.  “No, that wasn’t exactly my plan.”</p><p>Well, that was a relief.</p><p>She glanced at me and the smile was back.  “They’re actually going to meet Tina tomorrow.  I invited her for Sunday dinner.  I guess Anthony’s supposed to be there.  I don’t know about Marcus.  But at least they’ll get to meet her . . . and see what a sweet person she is.”</p><p>I nodded, because honestly, Tina really was very sweet.</p><p>After a second I grinned, raised an eyebrow and gave Lindsey a questioning look.</p><p>Apparently her telepathy worked because she immediately said, “And no, I’m not planning on any big announcements tomorrow either.  I think it would be better if they at least knew her a bit before we go there.”</p><p>I had to agree with her strategy.</p><p>“So how nervous is Tina?”</p><p>Lindsey laughed.  “You know, I thought she’d be a wreck.  She seems a bit nervous, but she told me she’s looking forward to meeting my family.”  Her eyes drifted off and her smile grew.  “She really is amazing . . . and she’s always surprising me.”  She said it softly, and I think as much to herself as to me.</p><p>A few seconds passed before Lindsey returned from her happy place.  She looked over at me . . . and changed up the subject.</p><p>“So . . . are you and Rosa okay then?” she asked quietly.</p><p>I didn’t answer right away . . . because that was the question that was plaguing me right now.</p><p>I took a deep breath and nodded.  “Yeah, I guess.” I glanced over at Lindsey and then said, “Rosa’s fine, I think.”  I couldn’t help grinning.  “But then look what she’s getting.  Why wouldn’t she be?”  In spite of everything, I hadn't lost my sense of humor.</p><p>Not unexpectedly, it produced an eye-roll from Lindsey.</p><p>I got a little more serious when I added, “Yeah, Rosa’s good.  And I’m good . . . as long as we’re at her place apparently.”</p><p>I stopped again.  It was a struggle for me, trying to understand this.  I mean, I liked Rosa – as in, I liked liked her.  I liked being with her, feeling her close to me, feeling her hand on mine, hugging her . . . kissing her.  It seemed a little crazy to me, but I knew I really did.  And I couldn’t deny how she affected me.  When we kissed . . . it definitely heated me up . . . yes, all my ‘lady parts’.</p><p>So maybe I was into women.  That didn’t bother me . . . well, not too much . . . other than it was a bit of a surprise. </p><p>Part of my problem was . . . I didn’t get that kind of reaction when I looked at – or thought about – any other women.  Weird, right?  So was I just into her?  Was I a Rosa-sexual?  Was that even a thing (okay, I know specifically that isn’t a thing . . . but if you’re into women, you’d think it would be more than just one specific woman, right)?</p><p>I knew Lindsey was watching me, and I was sure she could see there was a lot going on in my head.  No comment necessary about the rarity of that!</p><p>She let me muddle through it for a bit – not that it helped at all – before she said, “For whatever it’s worth, I think you and Rosa are good together.  She really is sweet.”  She got a big, crooked grin before she added, quite enthusiastically, “And hot.”</p><p>Yeah, no arguing with that.</p><p>I smiled and nodded.  “Yeah.  Thanks, Lindsey.”</p><p>I hadn't really resolved any of my woes . . . but it was nice to have someone to talk with about it.</p><p>Lindsey was grinning again.  “I know you must really like her.  I can’t believe she talked you into take an aerobics class.  That’s . . . .”  She shook her head in clear disbelief.  “. . . amazing.  Like, really . . . amazing.”</p><p>That was the reason we were at the mall.  I needed sports wear – because I had nothing like that – and Rosa had strongly suggested I invest in a good sports bra.  I had no clue about those.  That was why I’d brought Lindsey along.</p><p>Lindsey let her eyes drift off, like she was deep in thought.  “Gee, if only someone had thought to suggest to you – ages ago – that you should consider taking a class.  I’m sure if someone had done that, you would have jumped at the idea.”</p><p>Okay . . . maybe Lindsey had suggested – like, literally, a million times – that I join her for one of her classes.  I’d always declined.  I guess I loved my celery that much.</p><p>Lindsey reached out and rested her hand on my arm.  “Hey, I know you’re struggling with this, but any time you want to talk, you know I’m here.”</p><p>I smiled and nodded. </p><p>Lindsey grinned.  “Okay, now let’s go get you outfitted for your workout date with hot Rosa.”</p><p>I laughed.  We grabbed our purses and climbed out of the car.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Why was my phone ringing at 9:05 on a Sunday morning?  My first thought . . . it was my mother – still intent on saving my troubled soul – inviting me to join her for church service.  That thought put me in a dark mood.</p><p>But when I picked the phone up, I saw it was Rosa. </p><p>The dark mood was instantly gone, replaced with a big happy smile and a warm glow in my heart.  I might have been feeling a bit of warmth a few other places too.</p><p>“Hey there beautiful,” I answered.  We hadn't seen each other all day Saturday – she was doing Christmas shopping with her mother and sister, and then went out for dinner.  It was a plan she’d made before I was in the picture. </p><p>I think I’d kind of missed getting my daily dose of Rosa.</p><p>“Hey, how are you today?” her sweet voice asked.  “You’re not still in bed, are you?” </p><p>I know I had no excuses.  I wasn’t out late partying or anything.  I’d actually spent the evening with Lindsey and Tina . . . which had been a lot of fun.  But it was Sunday . . . a day of rest and all that stuff.  I was sort of doing God’s work . . . resting.  I mean, who was I to question.</p><p>“Hey, we should do something today.”</p><p>She sounded so enthusiastic for so early in the morning.  I was struggling to keep up.</p><p>“Uh, yeah . . . that sounds good.  Any ideas?”</p><p>“We could go to the museum.  The have a new . . . .”</p><p>She might have been distracted by the snoring noises I was making.  I know . . . I’m just so subtle.</p><p>And then my brain must have come out of hibernation because I had a brilliant idea.  “Hey, it’s supposed to be a nice day out, isn’t it?”  I remembered the forecast said it would be just below freezing, but sunny and calm.</p><p>“Uh, yeah I guess.”  Her words sounded just a bit hesitant.  She was definitely worried.</p><p>“You know how to skate, right?”</p><p>There was a solid five seconds of dead air before I heard a less than reassuring, “Yeah . . . kinda.”</p><p>I thought about it for a second . . . and then shrugged.  That was good enough for me.  “Why don’t we go skating?  Have you ever been to Evans Park?  They clear off the lake and make this huge skating rink.  It’ll be perfect on a day like this.”</p><p>When she didn’t immediately respond, I thought I’d sweeten the pot.  “I’ll bring hot chocolate.”</p><p>Still dead air.  I had to up the ante.  “I’ve got a cute little dress I used to wear when I did figure skating.  I’m pretty sure I could still fit into it.”</p><p>Rosa laughed.  She took another second, but then finally said, “Okay . . . but I’m not very good.”</p><p>“Oh, no problem,” I assured her.  “I’m a total expert.”</p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>I’d just finished lacing up my skates when I saw a smiling Rosa heading towards me.  She looked so cute in a pink puffer jacket that seemed tailored to hug her curves and a pair of black tights.  Her silky black hair fell out from under the pink knit hat she wore, and she had a matching scarf draped around her neck. </p><p>There was no disguising how beautiful she was, even under her winter wear, but what really caught my eyes – and maybe stirred up those butterflies in my stomach – was that big, brilliant smile she was shining at me.</p><p>She was carrying a pair of newer looking figure skates, so I thought maybe she had been lying to me a bit when she said she didn’t skate much.</p><p>Before I could even say anything, though, she held up the skates and said, “I had to borrow these from my sister.”  She gave me a forlorn little pout.  “Will you help me put them on?”</p><p>Hey, why not.  I’d already broken a nail putting mine on.  No point both of us being needlessly disfigured.</p><p>We chatted a bit about her day with her mom and her sister while I tied her skate.  It’s kind of funny, because I’m so use to playing the helpless woman when I’m in relationships.  Okay, maybe not ‘helpless’, maybe more ‘inclined to let someone else do things for me’, knowing afterwards I’d happily show them my gratitude.</p><p>So is that what I was expecting to get from Rosa . . . her gratitude?  And exactly what form did I expect this ‘gratitude’ to come in?  It made me a little nervous . . . and maybe a little tingly . . . thinking about it.</p><p>A big grin seemed to find it’s way onto my face . . . and then I suddenly felt a little self-conscious, thinking the kind of thoughts I was thinking, right out here in public where everyone could . . .. </p><p>Okay, I wasn’t exactly sure what I thought everyone out here could do – read my mind? – but I still felt a little uncomfortable.</p><p>Part of me was almost shouting, “Get over it.”  This whole ‘being self-conscious and caring what everyone else thinks’ thing just wasn’t me.  It was leaving me baffled and confused . . . and maybe a little stressed too.</p><p>“Hey, what’s up?” Rosa asked quietly, cutting into my many thoughts.</p><p>I glanced up at her, shook my head and smiled.  “Nothing.”  Little white lies are fine between people who are . . . dating, sort of.  At least that was my opinion.</p><p>Rosa was watching me closely – that was making me sweat a bit.  I was sure HR trained their people to spot lies . . . just like the CIA did.  So was I busted? </p><p>“You kind of got all quiet.  It’s like your mind was somewhere else.” </p><p>Oh-oh, she was onto me.  Time to distract her.</p><p>“Hey, tying skates takes concentration,” I told her, with a touch of indignation thrown in.  I held up my hand, showing my damaged nail.  “See.  This is what you get if you don’t pay attention.”  I dropped my head again to return to the very serious task . . . and a second later I broke my second nail.  Shit!</p><p>I glanced up nervously.  I wasn’t exactly sure if I’d said that in my head or out loud.  From the amused grin on Rosa’s face I thought maybe I’d let it slip out. </p><p>Oh no.  Now she was going to know I wasn’t a perfect lady.  Well, everyone around me realizes that eventually.  And I didn’t think that would exactly come as a shock – or be a deal breaker – for Rosa.</p><p>I finally finished with her skates.  I stood and was about to help her up when she grinned at me and said, “Hey, you promised me a cute little skating outfit.  Honestly, that’s the only reason I even agreed to do this.”</p><p>I grinned back at her.  I’d almost forgotten.  I unzipped my jacket, dropped it to the ground, and threw my arms up in the air.  All I needed was for someone to shout, “Ta-da.”</p><p>I had been so impressed that I still fit into the dress.  I think I’d last worn it when I was in about grade 9 . . . about the time I decided that cheerleading was more my style.  I couldn’t quite get it zipped up all the way.  Let’s just say I have a little more ‘volume’ in the chest area these days than I did back then.</p><p>I still thought it looked super cute on me.  It was a silvery color and the skirt ended somewhere well above my knees.  It was warm out – thank God – but not that warm, so I’d pulled a heavy red sweater over top, plus a pair of white tights to try and keep my legs warm. </p><p>Rosa had such a big grin staring at me.  It definitely made it all worth while.</p><p>“Oh, just a minute,” I told her as I reached into my backpack.  I pulled out the elf hat and slipped it on (I guess I was supposed to return that at some point).  I struck another pose, now that my ensemble was complete.</p><p>Rosa was actually laughing and clapping.  “You look sooo cute,” she gushed. </p><p>Who was I to argue.  I basked in the glow of her adoration (was that too much?) for another couple of seconds, and then grinned and held out my hand.  “Are you ready to go skating?” I asked her.</p><p>Well that killed her grin.  Instead she gave me a nervous smile and offered a resigned, “I guess.”</p><p>That filled me with confidence.</p><p>I pulled Rosa to her feet.  She had a terrified look on her face as she wobbled precariously on the skates. </p><p>“So you really can’t skate?” I asked, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.  I thought everybody – well at least everybody who lived around here – knew how to skate.  It was just part of growing up.</p><p>“No, I never really learned,” she said a little shyly.</p><p>I shook my head and stared at her in total disbelief. </p><p>“You can, you know, skate a little bit, right?”  This wasn’t going to be a whole lot of fun for Rosa if she spent all her time falling.  Falling on ice can be painful. </p><p>Of course that wouldn’t stop me from teasing her about it . . . but I’d still find it a little hard to watch.</p><p>She gave me a defiant look.  “I can skate . . . a bit.  It’s not like I’ve never skated.” </p><p>That sounded good enough for me . . . even if she looked like she might do a face plant even before we actually made it to the ice.</p><p>Okay, maybe I had my reasons for wanting to skate that had nothing to do with whether it would be a good idea for Rosa.  But hey, she said she wanted to do it.  It’s not like I was bullying her into it.</p><p>I slipped my arm around hers and steadied her as we walked towards the edge of the lake.  I glanced at her and caught her grinning at me. </p><p>“Well this is nice at least,” she said softly as she snuggled against my arm.  The smile disappeared a second later when she wobbled and almost lost her balance. </p><p>If I hadn't been there, she would have been down for sure.</p><p>When she steadied herself she glanced my way and gave me a heartfelt, “Thank you.”</p><p>Yes, I was a bit of a hero.  I could see it in her eyes.  Or maybe that was just the glare from the afternoon sun.</p><p>I carefully helped her out onto the ice and then continued to steady her as she took her first faltering steps.  I wasn’t sure she was ready to be told you didn’t actually walk on the skates . . . you glided.  I figured we had time for me to offer her a few of the basics later.</p><p>I slipped my arm from hers and backed away half a step.  “Are you okay?” I asked.  I was ready to grab her if it looked like she was going to lose it.</p><p>She gave a little nod as she managed to stand there – her arms held out to the side for balance – looking very much like someone who’d never been on skates before. </p><p>“If you want, I can tell everybody you’re from Guatemala and this is the first time you’ve even seen snow,” I offered.</p><p>Rosa apparently saw no humor in that.  She gave me a scowl as she took a tentative step . . . wobbled . . . and then regained her balance.  When she had steadied herself she smiled.  She seemed very pleased.</p><p>I was satisfied she was safe – well, at least for the moment – so I took a few long strides away from her and then did a graceful spin (I’m positive it looked graceful), followed by a little jump.</p><p>I couldn’t help grinning as I turned back to her.  She was staring at me with a look of complete amazement and awe.  Well, that’s how I was interpreting the look she was giving me.  Someone else might have said they heard her mutter, “Show-off,” but I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen.</p><p>I took a few more strides and went for another spin.  I was busy patting myself on the back, impressed that this still felt so natural. </p><p>There’s a reason they skate on an indoor rink at the Olympics.  On those, they can get the ice perfectly smooth . . . unlike like natural ice on a frozen lake . . . which tends to have a few cracks in it.</p><p>Yes, as I started my spin I caught the edge of my blade on a crack, lost my footing and went down.  Luckily for me, one of the first things they taught us when we were learning to skate was how to fall.  I fell – definitely not gracefully – but I took most of the impact on my butt.</p><p>I could almost hear Lindsey laughing and saying, “Well at least you’ve got lots of padding there.” Yeah, I’d pity her, falling on that skinny butt of hers.  She’d definitely hurt herself.</p><p>I heard a little shriek from Rosa and before I could let her know I was fine I saw her start to rush towards me.  I guess she forgot she was on skates because she took about two steps before her skates started to slip out from under her. </p><p>Her feet were kicking out this way and that like she was doing some kind of Russian dance and she swung her arms around wildly, almost like she was trying to take off, as she attempted to regain her balance.</p><p>I watched in horror, so frightened she might have a bad fall.  In the end I guess she used a little common sense.  She let her legs collapse and sank down so she landed on her bottom – pretty much like I did.  She let out a definite, “Oh!” when she hit the ice, and I was sure it jarred her. </p><p>I knew she’d probably have a bruise, but I also knew it could have been so much worse.  At least she didn’t hit her head or try to stick out an arm to break her fall.  That could have been ugly.</p><p>Honestly, she looked more surprised than anything else.  It took a second, but I almost saw a look of relief cross her face as she realized she’d survived.</p><p>That was all I needed.  My worry evaporated . . . and was replaced, quite naturally, by uncontrollable laughter.  It had actually been quite an entertaining wipe out.  I only wished I could have gotten it on my phone.  I could watch it any time I was feeling down.  It definitely would have made me laugh . . . but only because I knew Rosa didn’t get hurt.  I’m not a sadist!</p><p>Rosa started crawling over to where I was sitting on the ice.  When she got to me she plopped down beside me, and then immediately let out a little, “Ow!”  Apparently she had bruised herself.</p><p>I giggled again, which seemed to remind her.  She turned to me and punched me in the shoulder.  It wasn’t exactly a gentle shot either.  Maybe she’d been training with Lindsey.</p><p>“Hey,” I shouted . . . though my continued laughter.</p><p>“I could have really hurt myself,” she pouted, and punched me again. </p><p>To avoid any more of that abuse, I slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to me.  “I only laughed when I knew you were okay, though,” I reassured her.</p><p>I got a, “Humph,” from her, but she did lay her head onto my shoulder. </p><p>It took her a minute before she glanced up at me.  She furrowed her brow and the corners of her lips dipped downward.  “I was afraid you hurt yourself when you fell,” she said. </p><p>I smiled and gave her a squeeze . . . because that was sweet. </p><p>“I’m fine,” I reassured her, and then ran my eyes over her.</p><p>“How about you?  I just wanted to let you know, that was a spectacular fall.  I definitely gave it a 10.”  I grinned before I added, “The Russian judge only gave you an 8, but everyone knows they’re unfair.”</p><p>I think she considered giving me another punch, so I held onto her tightly.  She might have thought I was laughing at her again.</p><p>So I tried to be a little more serious.  “You’re okay, though, aren’t you?”</p><p>She nodded, shifted a little, and then grimaced.  “I think I’m going to have a bruise on my bottom.”</p><p>I nodded.  “Yeah, me too.”</p><p>She looked at me and got this big, crooked grin.  “I’ll tell you what.  I’ll massage yours and make you feel better if you’ll do mine.”  Her eyes were twinkling as she said it.</p><p>I found myself blushing and I lowered my eyes.  After a second I glanced back up at her and half joking said, “Always trying to get into my pants.  You’re as bad as the guys I’ve gone out with.”</p><p>“I guess that’s because I’m not getting any.”  It came out without any hesitation . .  .and probably a little more forcefully than she intended.  She didn’t look away or act the least embarrassed, though.  After a second she added, in a softer voice, “You get me so worked up, Lauren . . . and then you leave.  It’s hard.”  Was I detecting just a hint of frustration in her voice?</p><p>I found myself blushing again.  I almost threw out, “That’s what a vibrator’s for,” but I resisted.  I was pretty sure she was interested in more than just getting herself off.</p><p>As we sat there I became a little bit aware of where we were . . . of all the other people skating around the lake . . . who could see us snuggling like that.  I felt a little . . . self-conscious. </p><p>Besides, my butt was getting cold sitting on the ice.</p><p>I slipped away from Rosa, stood, and offered her my hand.</p><p>She gave me a weak smile.  “Do you promise not to abandon me again?” she asked.</p><p>I grinned at her.  “Sure.”  Hey, I’d already showed her how ‘amazing’ I was . . . if you ignored me falling.</p><p>She took my hand and I helped her up.  She grabbed onto my arm – apparently I wasn’t getting away from her, even if I wanted to – and we started skating again. </p><p>I gave her some instruction on how to push off and glide.  I pulled her around a bit so she’d get used to the sensation, and then had her doing little in and out waves with her blades, so she’d get a feel for what it was like to push herself forward.</p><p>It was impressive how quickly she improved.  Soon instead of clutching my arm, she was just holding my hand as she propelled herself forward – slowly, mind you, but still.</p><p>I think she impressed herself too. </p><p>I watched her and found myself smiling.  Rosa was concentrating so hard on keeping herself balanced while she tentatively pushed off with one skate, and then the other.  She was doing so well I could probably have let go of her . . . but I really didn’t want to.</p><p>It was like her being so wobbly on her skates gave me a reasonable excuse to hold hands with her.  I realized I really shouldn’t have needed an excuse.  I really should have been comfortable holding her hand any time . . . anywhere.  And maybe I’d get there.  It was just taking me much, much longer than I would have expected.  And I still didn’t really understand what my problem was.</p><p>But while we were doing this – skating and holding hands – I was going to enjoy it.</p><p>Rosa glanced up and caught my eye.  She beamed at me, gave my hand a squeeze and said, “You were right.  This is so much fun.  Thanks for suggesting it.”</p><p>I smiled right back.  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I told her.</p><p>Her smile twisted a bit.  “Just like I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself tomorrow.”</p><p>It took me a second . . . and then I remembered . . . aerobics.  I wasn’t so sure the two were comparable.  My thing was fun out in the sun and fresh air . . . and hers was just self-inflicted torture.</p><p>But I smiled at her and nodded.  The way she laughed made me think she saw my trepidation.</p><p>I slipped around in front of her and grabbed her other hand.  “Point your toes out,” I told her. </p><p>She looked a little nervous – you’d think she didn’t trust me – but I showed her what I meant and she followed my example.</p><p>I pushed off, pulling Rosa with me.  The two of use started spinning around in a circle.</p><p>“Don’t let go,” I warned her as I squeezed her hand.  I didn’t really need to, because she had a death grip on me.  I couldn’t pry her off if I tried.</p><p>She looked terrified at first, but as we continued and she relaxed, I saw her starting to grin.  I kept it going, but I kept our speed under control, because I knew if we got going too fast and I lost my grip, we’d both probably be sprawled on the ice again.</p><p>“Oh, that was so much fun,” Rosa was laughed when I finally slowed down.</p><p>I gave her hand a tug and started skating towards the bank.  We had made it to the far side of the lake by now.  Rosa was still laughing as I picked up speed, but when I whipped her and let her hand go I heard her shriek like she thought I was trying to kill her.</p><p>I sent her shooting towards the edge of the plowed area.  “Stop before you hit the bank,” I called.  Of course the words were barely out of my mouth before I heard Rosa yell, “What?” and before it occurred to me . . . she probably had no idea how to stop on skates.  Oops!</p><p>I watched in horror, hoping I hadn't just killed my girlfriend – hmm, isn’t it funny that at that moment I thought of her as my ‘girlfriend’?  “Not the time to ponder that,” I decide, as I started skating towards her.</p><p>Rosa hit the bank and seemed to dive ever so gracefully into it.  I was just about to her when she rolled over and grinned at me.  I felt so relieved.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” I called out to her as I glided up to the bank.  “Are you okay?”</p><p>She just laughed and said, “I’m fine.  That was fun.  Can we do it again?”</p><p>I couldn’t help smiling at her.  She was the best.  “Yes, she’s an amazing girlfriend,” I told myself, “So don’t go fucking it up.”</p><p>I just smiled at her for another few seconds, enjoying that happy glow that was spreading inside of me.  Finally I said, “Just wait her.  I’ll be right back.”</p><p>I took off across the lake, back to the benches where we’d first put on our skates and where I had my backpack.</p><p>I grabbed it and returned to Rosa.</p><p>I pulled my jacket out and spread it on the snow so we could sit on it and not get our butts wet . . . or maybe cold.  The jacket wasn’t huge, so we had to sit close together, but that was fine (here on the far side of the lake . . . yeah, I had no problems).</p><p>I pulled out a big thermos and couple of plastic glasses and poured ourselves some of my homemade hot chocolate – no crappy instant mix for me.  I even had a little bag full of miniature marshmallows I could sprinkle on top.</p><p>Rosa gave me such a wonderful, big smile.  “Look at you, keeping your promises.  A really cute skating dress and hot chocolate.”  That crooked smile was back as she added, “I wonder what else you’ve got for me today.”  She rested her hand on my knee and began to gently massage it.  Then she let her hand run slowly up my leg, along my thigh, until it was under my short skirt.</p><p>What do you call it when one part of your head is going, “YES!  YES!  Keep going!” and another part is yelling, “Oh my God, run!”  Did I have some kind of split personality . . . or was I just confused?  I really couldn’t decide, because either seemed entirely possible.</p><p>I guess Rosa sensed my uncertainty, because she abruptly stopped and removed her hand . . . although clearly quite reluctantly. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” I told her . . . and I really meant it.  She wasn’t the only one who was worked up . . . and frustrated.</p><p>I glanced around.  There was nobody close to us . . . so I leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. </p><p>“I really, really do want to be with you,” I told her.  I totally believed that.  I just wasn’t sure my wanting it was enough.</p><p>Rosa nodded, but didn’t say anything and didn’t meet my eyes.</p><p>Shit, I had to get my act together, and soon.</p><p>We sipped our hot chocolates, fortified with peppermint schnapps – that impressed her.  I put my hand on hers and squeezed it.  We enjoyed our drinks, holding hands but not talking.</p><p>This thing with Rosa was such a rollercoaster . . . and I knew it was all my fault.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I carefully shuffled into position . . . and then collapsed down onto my couch.  I let out a loud, “Oooww!” as I did.  It hurt.  I tried to pull my legs up and tuck them underneath me, but they protested and that produced another mournful moan.  I gave up trying.  It wasn’t worth the pain, so I just left my legs where they were.  I considered crossing them, at least, but I decided that would probably hurt too . . . so I just sat there, perfectly still.  I’d like to say that at least when I was motionless, nothing hurt . . . but that would be a big fat lie.</p><p>“Oh stop complaining, you big baby” said the generally empathetic but now completely heartless Rosa.  How’d she get to be such a meanie all of a sudden?  Did this mean the ‘honeymoon period’ was over for us and now I was seeing the real Rosa?  Or maybe it was just PMS.  Who knew.</p><p>It had a whole 24 hours since I’d been tricked into that evening of sadomasochism that Rosa innocently referred to as an ‘aerobics class’.  A fun dance class, my ass.</p><p>Okay, honestly, I did enjoy the choreography and the dancing part of the class . . . but how did I let them sneak in weights . . . and what kind of insane torture did they make me do to my tummy?  I’d left the class tired though happy enough . . . but little did I know the after-effects would be a special kind of hell. </p><p>When the class was over Rosa had suggested I take a long hot bath to soothe my muscles.  Actually, she’d first suggest a full body massage . . . although I suspected that idea had less to do with my aching muscles and more to do with a certain aching she was feeling.  So I’d politely declined . . . though I’ll admit I was starting to get more tempted by such offers.  Maybe that was progress.</p><p>By this morning I could barely move, and even getting out of bed had been an agonizing struggle.  Everything hurt . . . a lot.  Some of those pains were in places where I didn’t even know I had muscles.  I seriously considered calling Lindsey and tell her I wasn’t going to make it.  Of course then she’d just harass me and say that was proof of what horrible shape I was in. </p><p>I’ll have you know I’d have no problems rounding up a good crowd of people – all guys, of course (well, possibly Rosa too I suppose) – who’d happily swear they were quite impressed with my shape, thank you very much.</p><p>Anyways, I was late when I got to Lindsey’s . . . because things just took longer when every movement triggered some new form of agony. </p><p>I actually let Lindsey drive my car – something I never do – because Lindsey’s wonderful and everything, but she’s a menace behind the wheel.</p><p>And I don’t mean a crazy, reckless driver.  I mean we had little old grey-haired grannies who could barely see over the dash blowing past us on the road.  Lindsey’s so good at so many things . . . but there’s a reason she lets me drive.</p><p>We got to work seriously late.  Good thing it was the week before Christmas, because suddenly everyone’s expectations were lowered just that much more.  I think my boss was impress if I even made it in by noon and was somewhat conscious.</p><p>Lindsey actually had to help me out of the car – that was a little embarrassing, but when the option was agonizing pain, you swallowed your pride and did what you had to do.</p><p>Speaking of old, grey-haired grannies, I think I might have been moving like one as I made my way into the building.  Those half dozen steps right up front almost defeated me, but I persevered and eventually made it up them, although with many groans and moans.</p><p>Lindsey didn’t say anything as she walked with me, but I could see the grin on her face and I was certain she was struggling to keep herself from giggling . . . at my expense, of course. </p><p>I considered giving her a pre-emptive shot – she certainly deserved it (and everyone knows she wouldn’t hesitate to dish one out to me) – but then I decided I could live with the way she was smirking at me.  As satisfying as a good elbow might have been, I wasn’t willing to accept the serious agony I knew would accompany any sudden movements like that.</p><p>I’d just gotten settled at my desk when Rosa appeared.  She took one look at me and gave me a sympathetic smile (at that point she was still feeling bad for me . . . apparently that passed).  Then she turned to Lindsey. </p><p>I wasn’t even sure what language they were speaking.  It was like being at the doctors when two of them were discussing your diagnosis.  It all sounded Greek to me (maybe Tina could translate for me).</p><p>There were comments about things like pecs and abs and quads and lats that meant very little to me.  Rosa said something about working our gluts . . . just say your butt if you mean your butt! </p><p>Mine had already been sore form my little spill at skating on Sunday . . . but trust me, that was nothing compared to how it felt now.  People survived Medieval torture without feeling as bad as I did (I was sure).</p><p>Rosa and Lindsey took their time dissecting our workout to map out why each of my muscles was aching.  This wasn’t helping me in any way.</p><p>When they were done, Lindsey said, quite casually, “Wow, that sounds like it was a really good class.  Maybe I should try it some time.”</p><p>“You really should.  I’m sure you’d like it,” Rosa responded, just as casually.  Both of them seemed oblivious to the fact that the ‘patient’ in front of them was in agony . . . and probably dying.  The least they could do was to offer to get the dying person a cup coffee.</p><p>I’d like to say that things got better as the day went on, but again, that would be a lie.  By the time I got home and got laid out on my couch, I realized I wasn’t moving again . . . maybe for a week.</p><p>It took me a while, but eventually I called Rosa and told her there was no way I was going over to her place.  She did sound at least a bit sympathetic, and offered to come over and ‘take care of me’.  That sounded wonderful.</p><p>The downside was that I actually had to get myself up to let her in.  The upside . . . well, Rosa was here, so that was definitely positive . . . but she’d also stopped and picked up some fettuccini alfredo from Spiros. </p><p>I was so thankful.  I was starving . . . but I’d been unable to convince myself to get up and make something.  So thank goodness for Rosa.  That definitely won her big points with me . . . redeemable later for all kinds of fun and prizes.</p><p>I hadn't even thought about it, but this was actually the first time Rosa had been to my place.  When she walked in she let her eyes wander around the whole room before she said, “This is nice.  It’s so . . . you.”</p><p>I took that to be a good thing . . . because – you know – I’m quite wonderful (everyone’s saying it . . . really).</p><p>Then she got a little frown.</p><p>“What?” I asked.</p><p>Rosa gave me a small smile.  “The only thing you’re missing is . . . a few Christmas decorations.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” I demanded as looked around the living room.  “What about that?”  I pointed to my lone Christmas decoration . . . a foot tall miniature Christmas tree in the middle of my coffee table.  I guess I’m not so big on the Christmas decorating.</p><p>Rosa eyed my tree for a second, but the almost pained expression on her face made it clear that my ‘decorating’ for the season was not nearly up to her standards.</p><p>“Hey, just because my place doesn’t look like Whoville,” I muttered.</p><p>Rosa’s eyes went wide and she did her best to look offended . . . before she started giggling.  “Not to worry.  I’ll get you straightened around . . . Mr. Grinch,” she muttered right back at me.</p><p>We decided we didn’t want our food to get cold (it was Spiro’s . . . and I was starving), so we ate . . . and Dr. Rosa gave me a healthy dose of medicine to help ease my pain.  She pulled a bottle of wine from her big bag – it was like a magic trick . . . and I might have even clapped.  We finished it with our meal . . . and it’s possible I had about three quarters of the bottle.</p><p>Afterwards we curled up together on my couch and watched some TV.  Twenty minutes later I guess Rosa got bored – or she just had other things on her mind – because she nuzzled up against me and started planting small kisses on my neck.  I was feeling generous, so I made no effort to stop her.</p><p>I felt her hand slip around me and rest innocently on my hip while the kissing continued.  I didn’t really pay it too much attention.  The next thing I knew, I found it cupping my boob and gently massaging it.  I was going to say something . . . but then I decided it felt kind of nice.  Actually, it felt very nice.</p><p>I guess I must have gotten bored with the TV too, because soon my eyes were closed and I was just enjoying Rosa.  She continued planting kissing on my neck, on my cheek, my forehead, and finally on my lips.</p><p>All the while she was caressing my boob and playing with my quite sensitive nipple.  Honestly, she could have offered lessons to just about every guy I’d ever gone out with, because she really seemed to know what she was doing.  Trust me, I appreciate that.</p><p>I was moaning again, but for a change it didn’t have to do with my sore, aching muscles.  I’d just about forgotten about them, actually – it was a very pleasant distraction.</p><p>We kissed and I happily welcomed her tongue into my mouth.  My tongue met hers and the two wrapped around each other as we ground our lips together.  This was by far the hottest things had gotten between us, but I was totally fine with that.</p><p>I was a little surprised when Rosa took one of my hands and pressed it firmly against her boob.  Just as a reflex I tried to pull away, but she was having none of that.  She held it there.</p><p>I quicky got over my ‘shyness’ and quit trying to pull away.  It took me a couple of seconds, but then I tentatively squeezed her full, firm boob.  I kind of felt like I was thirteen again and trying to figure out what I was doing (yes, I know . . . I started early, but I guess I was just advanced for my age).</p><p>Rosa kept her hand over mine, and whispered to me, “You know what to do.  You know what you like . . . I’m no different.” </p><p>Okay, that might have been debatable . . . but she was right.  It was a place to start.</p><p>I began squeezing her boob and pulling on and pinching her very hard nipple . . . and from the response I got, I assumed I was doing okay. </p><p>Actually, I was quite enthralled with how responsive Rosa was.  She pressed her boob firmly into my hand and moaned loudly when I played with her nipple.  Big surprise, but I realized I was doing about the same with her.</p><p>We kissed and caressed each other for what seemed like a long, wonderful eternity.  Other than the odd jolt of pain I got when I shifted my position – or moved – it was incredible.</p><p>When Rosa pulled my sweater up and then undid my bra – one handed . . . very impressive – I made no attempt to stop her.  When she took my nipple in her mouth and lashed it with her tongue, I just threaded my fingers through her silky hair and urged her on. </p><p>My problems started when she tried to undo my jeans.  And I don’t mean, like, I had a problem with her doing that.  I was aroused enough at this point that I was beyond protesting anything she might have wanted to do with me.  I was already thinking this was going to be the night we took it the next level . . . and I was very much looking forward to it.</p><p>Only when I shifted so it was easier for Rosa, I got a sudden jolt of pain.  The moan I let out, unfortunately, had nothing to do with all the fun Rosa was having with my boobs.</p><p>I shifted again, hoping that would make things better . . . but not so much.  I let out another cry that clearly even Rosa could tell wasn’t a moan of pleasure.  She froze . . . and then sat back to look at me.</p><p>“Are you okay?” she asked.  The concern was obvious in her voice and on her face.</p><p>I gave her a quick smile.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I tried to reassure her.  I wasn’t at all interested in ending this night before Rosa had completely had her way with me.  I was thinking that was something I might enjoy quite tremendously.</p><p>Rosa gave me a big, sexy smile and moved back in.  I shifted a little . . . just to get comfortable . . . and of course that’s when I got a wicked cramp in my leg.</p><p>“Ooww, God,” I cried out and pushed myself to my feet, almost dumping Rosa onto the floor as I did.  I hobbled back and forth across the room, trying to work it out, but I wasn’t having a lot of luck.</p><p>“Come over here,” Rosa pretty much ordered me. </p><p>When I limped my way over to her she spun me around – none too gently – and began to work her fingers into my leg.</p><p>“Yeah, you’ve got a big knot in your muscles,” she told me as she worked on it.  I’m not sure if the cramp or the way she was digging her fingers into my muscle was more painful.  But eventually she did start to work it out and I got some relief.</p><p>After another couple of minutes all was good.  I turned to Rosa, gave her a weak smile, and said, “Thanks.”</p><p>She let out a big sigh.  She gave me her own weak smile.  “Well, that kind of killed the mood.”</p><p>I sighed too . . . because she wasn’t wrong.  “I’m sorry,” I told her as I sat back down beside her (with a painful little moan).</p><p>She cupped one of my still bare boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze, but I could tell she was just being playful . . . she wasn’t starting things up again.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said again.  And that was true on so many levels . . . because Rosa had seriously gotten me in the mood for a bit of physical fun . . . and the thought of not getting it felt almost as painful as my cramp had.</p><p>Rosa sighed again.  “It’s actually getting late, and I’ve got a bunch of stuff I need to get done tomorrow . . .before Christmas . . . so maybe I should just go.”</p><p>“Will you come over tomorrow?” I immediately asked.</p><p>That brought a smile to her face.  “Sure.  I’d like that.”  She gave my boob another squeeze and then kissed me softly.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had hoped – completely in vain, apparently – that after another day my pain would have started to ease up.  Nope . . . didn’t happen.</p><p>Rosa and Lindsey both felt the need to comment, “Oh no . . . if anything, it’s usually worse the second day.”</p><p>That was something I really didn’t need to hear.  Thanks, ladies!</p><p>I half wondered if Rosa had said it with a bit of spite . . . you know, because I’d gotten her all worked up and then abandoned her – again – the previous evening.  I didn’t think she was like that . . . but I really wasn’t all that sure.  I sometimes have a way of driving people that I’m dating slightly insane.</p><p>I promised myself I’d definitely make it up to her . . . hopefully tonight (that thought kept me feeling tingly all day at work).</p><p>I’m not sure if Rosa and Lindsey were right about that ‘second day’ thing, but I know for certain my pain definitely didn’t get any better.</p><p>Still, I was looking forward to my evening with Rosa.</p><p>She came over this time right after work.  She floated the idea of going out to a restaurant.  She grinned as she sat very close to me on the couch and traced a finger lightly over one of my boobs (okay, maybe I’d worn a very low cut sweater and my favorite push-up bra . . . just to entice her).</p><p>“I know a place that makes a killer burger . . . with bacon and cheddar . . . and the best onion rings . . . .”</p><p>She was talking dirty to me . . . doing her best to entice me I guess.  It was tempting.</p><p>She kissed and nibbled on my ear as her finger did little circles around my nipple, just teasing it.</p><p>“Besides,” she whispered in my ear, “I’d like to be able to go out and show off my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend . . . make everyone else jealous.”</p><p>I let her make her case . . . but I was just enjoying myself too much (I’m sure that’s the reason). </p><p>“Why don’t we just order in . . . and then we don’t have to stop.”  I ran my fingers through her thick hair, brought her mouth to mine and gave her an open mouth kiss.</p><p>“We’ve got lots of time tonight,” she argued.  “And we always eat in.  We’ve really never gone out together since we started . . . getting serious.  And I’d like to take you out before Christmas starts.” </p><p>I knew she was going to be at her parents over Christmas – they lived about an hour away – and so we probably wouldn’t see each other for a few days.</p><p>We continued to discuss it, but eventually – reluctantly, I think – Rosa let herself be convinced.  We ordered Chinese food from a local place that I liked, and then returned to the fun.</p><p>We were both more than a little aroused when my door buzzer sounded, announcing the arrival of our food.  I’d discovered Rosa’s boobs tonight – all on my own – and was quite enjoying myself with them.  I think maybe Rosa was enjoying herself too.</p><p>The delivery guy quite obviously ‘discovered’ my boobs when I was grabbing the food and paying, because I swear his eyes never left them.</p><p>We dished up at my little table.  It took me a bit – probably because I was stuffing my face – but I finally noticed that Rosa was being a bit quiet.  She was staring off, her mind clearly on something.</p><p>“What you thinking about?” I asked her.</p><p>She quickly glanced at me, dropped her eyes and shook her head.  “Oh . . . nothing.  Just some things I need to do before Christmas.” </p><p>I found myself wondering if she was like me . . . and thought little lies were okay . . . because I had a sense that what she said wasn’t totally true.</p><p>I cut her some slack, though, because Lord knows I was putting the poor woman through enough, I was sure.</p><p>After we’d finished eating and put away the leftover, I grabbed Rosa’s hand and led her back to the couch.  I grinned at her and asked, “Now where were we?” as I cupped one of her lovely boobs and began to massage it.</p><p>I kissed her on the neck and on the throat, and then let my lips brush lightly against hers before I returned back to where I started.</p><p>She was letting me have my way with her . . . which pleased me.  Too often it seemed she had to take the lead.  I wanted her to see that I was absolutely as much into this as she was.</p><p>As hard as I tried, it seemed to take me several minutes to coax a soft moan out of her. </p><p>“She’s just getting warmed up,” I told myself as I and gently pinched her nipple between my fingers.</p><p>I wondered what it would be like to kiss and lick and suck on one of those nipple.  The idea excited me . . . probably as much for the fact I was sure Rosa would love it as for any other reason. </p><p>Yes, I was definitely getting into it . . . until I heard Rosa say, “Why didn’t you want to go out to a restaurant?”</p><p>It was so unexpected that I froze.  I sat back a couple of seconds, and then looked up at her and said, “Huh?” </p><p>Rosa was just staring at me.  She seemed very still and calm . . . but her dark eyes were locked on mine.</p><p>“Why didn’t you want to go out to a restaurant tonight?” she repeated. </p><p>Yep, I’d heard her right.</p><p>I sat there, still holding her boob, and I’m sure looking more than a little confused . . . and quite possibly disappointed by this interruption in my fun.  Was it possible this was how Rosa felt whenever I decided to kill one of our make-out sessions?  It really sucked.</p><p>Rosa was looking at me intently, obviously wanting an answer to her question.</p><p>‘Um, I don’t know . . . I guess I just wanted to . . . you know, spend time here with you,” I half mumbled.</p><p>“But we could do that after dinner,” Rosa protested.</p><p>I dropped my eyes and sat back.  I finally let go of her boob, because there was nothing sexy about this conversation.</p><p>I shrugged my shoulders.  “I guess I just like having you all to myself.”  I still had my eyes down.  I glanced up and tried to give her a smile, but it was a poor attempt, and I quickly dropped my eyes again.</p><p>Rosa was quiet for a few seconds.  Finally, in a soft voice she asked, “Are you not comfortable, going out in public with me?”</p><p>That question hit a little too close to home . . . and instead of just admitting it, my natural response was to push back.  I am feisty that way . . . when I’m cornered.</p><p>“I went skating with you on Sunday,” I pointed out.  “And I even held you hand just about the whole time.”  Take that!</p><p>Rosa nodded.  “Yeah . . . but that was to keep me from falling on my face, right?”</p><p>That might have been technically true . . . but still.</p><p>“If we went to the mall, shopping, would you hold my hand while we walked around?”  She was keeping her voice soft – not accusing me or anything – but still I felt an uncomfortable knot forming in my stomach.</p><p>I kept my eyes down and didn’t respond again.</p><p>She gave me a few seconds before she spoke again.  “Lauren?”</p><p>I glanced up at her, and I’m sure she could see the despair on my face.</p><p>Rosa sighed and took my hand.  She held it and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes.</p><p>I appreciated that she didn’t say any more.  She could have mentioned Monday night, at our class. </p><p>Just going to the class was enough to make me nervous, but as we walked in and Rosa greeted a number of the other women there, it occurred to me . . . she was a regular, and Rosa maybe wasn’t in your face with it, but she wasn’t exactly shy about her sexuality either. </p><p>Did these women know she was gay?  And were they looking at me – a ‘friend’ that Rosa brought to the class – and assuming. </p><p>Of course the real questions for me was, why did that bother me . . . given that I was involved with Rosa?  Obviously I didn’t know the answer . . .but I was unusually shy and withdrawn while we waited for the class to start.</p><p>I had no doubts Rosa noticed . . . even if she didn’t comment.</p><p>Finally she said, “Hey, I know this is all new to you . . . and I know it might take you some time to get use to it . . . but . . . .”  She paused.  I assumed she was looking for the right words.</p><p>“. . . do you think you’re ever going to be comfortable with . . . me . . . with us . . . or maybe with other people knowing about us?” </p><p>Her voice was still soft – not at all confrontational – but I found myself struggling to answer her.</p><p>Finally I looked up.  My eyes were feeling watery and my throat was so dry.  I wanted so badly to reassure her . . . to tell her I was certain I’d get there . . . but honestly, I wasn’t, and I really didn’t want to lie to her – not about something like this.</p><p>So I gave my head a little shake and mournfully said, “I don’t know.  I really don’t.”</p><p>I dropped my head again as I felt the tears start to leak out and spill down my cheeks.  I’d finally spoken that truth that had been eating away at me since Rosa and I had started . . . but I can’t say it made me feel any better.</p><p>Rosa pulled me to her and held me . . . but I was certain she had to be wondering if she should just walk away.</p><p>After a couple of minutes I heard her say, “I really care about you, Lauren.  I really do.  But you have to know . . . I can’t live pretending there isn’t something between us.  I’ve worked too hard . . . been through too much to deny who I am . . . what I am.  I just don’t want to live that way.  I can’t.”</p><p>She sat back and put a finger under my chin to raise my eyes.  When mine finally met hers she gave me a big, beautiful smile.  “I really want to try.  I really want to make this work . . . as long as you do too.”</p><p>I gave her a weak smile and nodded because I didn’t really trust my voice.</p><p>She took a second before she said, “On Boxing Day at my parents we always spend the day playing games and having fun.”  With a grin she added, “We might even have a drink or two.”</p><p>It sounded nice.</p><p>“Everyone dresses up in whatever fun Christmas clothes they have,” she added.</p><p>When I grinned and raised my eyebrows she laughed and admitted, “Okay, maybe it’s mostly me . . . and sometimes my sister and my mom . . . but still . . . .”</p><p>I couldn’t help smiling.  She sounded so exuberant talking about it.</p><p>But then she said, “Why don’t you come join us?  It would be so much fun.  And you’d get to meet my family.  Don’t worry . . . they’ll love you.”</p><p>I’m pretty sure I lost my smile and I was back to feeling that constricting knot in my stomach. </p><p>“Uh, I don’t know . . . ,” I started.</p><p>“Why?  Are you doing stuff with your family?”</p><p>Well that would have been a wonderful excuse . . . but I shook my head.  I really didn’t want to lie to her.</p><p>Rosa let out a big sigh.  Her smile was gone now.  She was chewing on the corner of her lip.  I could see the frustration in her face.</p><p>I knew this wasn’t going good.</p>
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